


Siria Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

by chamberinmyheart



Series: Siria Potter [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Hogwarts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-02-08 19:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 37,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12871308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chamberinmyheart/pseuds/chamberinmyheart
Summary: Siria Potter lives in the cupboard under the stairs. Her only friend at Privet Drive is the neighborhood stray, Snuffles. He brings books & small gifts, trinkets of a hidden world she's forgotten, but is about to reenter. (Please see the author's note)If there are character deaths, they'll be already canon ones, but I'm hoping to save a few people. I want a nice story about a queer kid who's story isn't all about how she's queer &; why.





	1. The Girl Who Lived and The Vanishing Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Never did I ever expect people to use the book along with this! Somewhere around Diagon Alley in Book 1, I start giving little summaries from what happens in the book. This started out as a fun little thing I didn't expect to post, but did at my bestie’s nagging. Once I finish, I'm moving on. I'm not coming back to paraphrase or clean things up. This is the sent out to the world first draft that tells me I can commit to writing something. My best friend is my beta & I neither of us really knew what we were doing until about book 2.  
> Around The Third Task, in the 4th book, I move to paraphrasing. To those that tried to read with the book, I'm so sorry. To those that enjoy it, thank you and I'm so glad you do. To those that don't, there are other fanfics and I hope you find one you love. -J
> 
> If you don’t want to skip to book 4, but also can’t really take all the page cuts & similarities, I’d recommend the following:  
> Book 1 Ch 6 (The Locket in the Cupboard) & 7 (The Journey from Platform 9 3/4);  
> Book 2 Ch 1 (The Awkward Drive), 2 (The Worst Present), 4 (The Burrow and at Flourish and Blotts), 7 (Mudbloods and Murmurs), 8 (Howlers and Healers), 12 (Under the Cloak), and maybe 16 (The Chamber of Secrets) and 17 (The Heir of Slytherin) for their small differences;  
> Book 3 ch 1 (Questions), 2 (Aunt Marge’s Big Mistake), 3 (Fudge and Sirius), 4 (Diagon Alley), 8 (Practice, Practice, Practice), 9 (The Call to the Willow), 10 (Nightmares and Falls), 13 (Hufflepuff vs Gryffindor), 14 (Rumors, Repercussions, & Discussions), & 18 Questions, Again

**The Girl Who Lived**  


Author’s Notes: the first four chapters only have a few differences from the book, as much of it is happening to Harry/Siria. My goal is for the major plot points to be there for as long as I’m writing with her relationships and interactions with people being different. Throughout, there will be little breaks of “(Book:...)” with what happened or where. Chapter 1 is the set up, so it’s super on point with the book (pgs 1-17)  
On the chance this isn’t obvious: my work is unofficial, has no connection with J.K. Rowling, she has the rights, and should she/her legal team request it, my content will be removed or edited as per their request(s).

(Book: The Boy Who Lived from “Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much[...]” to “[...] In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.” with gender pronouns changed, “Harry” with “Siria”, and Vernon’s question “What’s her name again? Sarah, isn’t it?” and Petunia’s sentence changed to “Siria. Silly, rotten name, if you ask me.” )  
A man on a broomstick landed just behind the motorcycle. The man riding the broom was a thin, darkly handsome man. For as huge and wild the first man was, the second was handsome and elegant. He had fine, dark hair and graceful grey eyes. There was a wrinkle in his brow that was full of worry, and he kept his eyes on the bundle the entire time he moved.  
“Ah, Hagrid, Sirius” Dumbledore welcoming them both.  
“Dumbledore” the thin, handsome man interjected “She’s my Goddaughter, please—” Dumbledore raised a hand, and Sirius stopped.  
“I understand your concerns, Sirius, but, please, trust me. This will all be for the best.” He assured Sirius, and reached to accept the bundle from Hagrid.  
“She fell asleep as we were flying over Bristol.” Hagrid told him.  
Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent over the bundle of blankets. Inside was a baby girl, only fifteen months old. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over her forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning. Professor McGonagall began “Is that where—?”  
“Yes.” Dumbledore told her, “She’ll have that scar forever.”  
“Couldn’t you do something?” Sirius inquired. Dumbledore shook his head,  
“Even if I could, scars can come in handy. I have one above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground.”  
They all sighed at the small bundle. Dumbledore took a breath, “Well, we’d better get this over with.” He turned toward the Dursley’s door.  
“Dumbledore, please” Sirius pleaded. “Peter is still out there.”  
“All the more reason, until we find him.” Dumbledore assured him.  
“Could I— could I say good-bye to her, sir?” Hagrid asked. He bent over the baby, and gave Siria what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss.  
Sirius stepped forward, and took hold of her tiny her hand. Then, suddenly, Hagrid gave out a howl like a wounded dog.  
“Shh!” hiss Professor McGonagall, “you’ll wake the Muggles!” Hagrid stammered out an apology, and she patted him gingerly on the arm. Sirius withdrew his hand from Siria’s grasp.  
Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Siria gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside her blankets, and came back to the other three. For a full minute, they stood and watching the bundle; Hagrid shook with silent tears, Professor McGonagall dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, the light in Dumbledore’s eyes seemed lost, and Sirius’s face looked gaunt and aged.  
“Well,” Said Dumbledore, finally, “that’s that. We’ve no business staying here. We may as well go and join in the celebrations.”  
Professor McGonagall nodded.  
“I’ll see you soon.” She told him. “Oh, Sirius,” she patted the young man on the shoulder, but didn’t say more. Professor McGonagall seemed to disappear from Privet Drive because she was there, and then there was a tabby cat in her place. Dumbledore nodded to the gentlemen. He told them to enjoy the festivities, and walked to the street corner, in darkness.  
“I suppose you’ll be wanting your bike” Hagrid told Sirius. The elegant man shook his head. “I’ll get it from you later. I can take James’s broom back.” Hagrid nodded, and allowed himself another look at the bundle.  
“James and Lily’s daughter…” Hagrid trudged back to the bike. It roared to thunderously life, and took to the air. Sirius admired the bundle of blankets on the Dursley’s doorstep until the bike was out of earshot.  
Even in the darkness, Sirius knew Dumbledore was watching him. He could feel the blue eyes. Sirius gave up, and picked up the broom. Despite himself, he mounted the broom, with a leg on each side, and kicked off into the sky. From the air, Sirius watched Dumbledore flick open the Put-Outer, and light return to Privet Drive. Then Dumbledore too, was gone. Sirius watched the small spot for a moment longer, before circling the sky.  
A large, bear-like, black dog trotted up to the bundle of blankets. It circled around her, and plopped down. The bear-dog placed one massive paw over the baby, in a protective manor. Little Siria Potter rolled in her blankets, but did not wake. Instead, one of her small hands took hold of the envelope. She had no idea what was in store for her, no idea she was special, or famous, or that, in a few hours, she would be woken by Mrs. Dursley’s scream when she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles. Nor did she know that she would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by her cousin Dudley….She had no idea that at this very instance, people all over the country were meeting in secret, holding up their glasses in hushed voices, and saying “To Siria Potter, the Girl Who Lived.”

**The Vanishing Glass**

  
(Like the first chapter, very much the book, with changed gender pronouns, “Harry” to “Siria” and some slightly changed bits:)  
(Book: 18-20)  
“Braid your hair!” Uncle Vernon barked, by way of morning greeting.  
About twice a month, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his paper and shouted that Siria’s hair was completely unbearable. The Dursleys used to cut her hair every month, but it made no difference. Her hair simply grew to her lower back, and all over the place. They had given up with haircuts when Aunt Petunia had given Siria a bowl cut, only for it to be just as long the next day. The two had been furious with her, and locked Siria in her cupboard for a week. Now, her hair was regularly ripped into a braid, so they didn’t have to see how messy it really was.  
(Book: 20-24)  
“I’m warning you” he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Siria’s, “I’m warning you now, girl— any funny business, anything at all— and you’ll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas.” His foul, hot breath fogged her glasses.  
“Of course” Siria told him, and forced a weak smile. It was no use telling her uncle she wouldn’t do anything. They never believed her because, the problem was, strange things just happened around her. Sometimes glasses would shatter, and sometimes things that weren’t supposed to shatter would.  
Once, Aunt Petunia had tried to force Siria into a hideous old dress of hers (orange with shiny, purple spots). The dress shrunk more and more the harder Aunt Petunia tried to get it on Siria, until it might have fitted a doll, but certain couldn’t fit her. Trembling, Aunt Petunia decided “Must have shrunk, in the wash,” and Siria hadn’t been punished at all for it.  
Most recently, she’d gotten into huge trouble for being found on Mrs. Figg’s roof. Mrs. Figg didn’t seem to mind much, but the Dursleys had been furious, and Siria couldn’t explain. Through the door of her cupboard, she had tried to tell to Uncle Vernon that she only wanted to jump behind Mrs. Figg’s trash bins. When she’d finally gotten out, Snuffles, the neighborhood dog, was the only one who seemed to understand.  
(Book: 25-29, the reptile house through “[..] and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.”)  
Siria lay in her dark cupboard much later. She looked to her watch. It was a very simple watch, but also very nice. The watch had a thin, silver chain that linked around her wrist like a bracelet, and a plain silver face. In addition to the hands for hours and minutes, there was a third hand. Unlike the hour and minute hands, which were thin silver lines, the third hand looked like fancy miniature twig model. It jumped from 3 o’clock to 6, and made Siria smile.  
She had lived with the Dursleys for almost ten long and miserable years. For as long as she could remember, ever since her parents had died in that car crash. The car crash she couldn’t remember, no matter how hard she tried. If she thought on it long enough, she’d sometimes see a flash of green light, and a feel a scorching pain, right on her scar. She supposed, it tracked, that it was the car crash. Siria couldn’t remember her parents at all, and they were never spoken about.  
When Siria was younger, she’d dreamed of a long lost relation coming to claim her...but no one ever did. The Dursleys were her only family or, worse, the only family willing to have her. Sometimes Siria felt, or hoped, that strangers in the street seemed to know her. They were always strangely dressed, like a man in a violet top hat, a woman in all green, and a man in a long purple coat, who had gone so far as to shake her hand. Stranger still, all of these people seemed to disappear, the moment she looked back to them (B1, pg29).  
She had no one at school. Thanks to Dudley’s gang, no one wanted to be associated with that strange Siria Potter, who wore the same, very faded and worn clothes, had taped up glasses, and often got things (sometimes even trash) thrown at her. The only highlight to life with the Dursleys was Snuffles, the neighborhood dog. Snuffles was a behemoth of a dog, really. He had towered over Siria for as long as she’d known him, and could still knock her over with ease, but he was a great listener. Sometimes that was all she needed: someone to listen. Much like the snake at the zoo, he held onto her words as if captivated. It was, in fact, Snuffles that had brought her the watch. She was hesitant at first, but Snuffles had convinced her it wasn’t stolen.  
As quietly as she possibly could, Siria slid her cupboard door open. All the lights were out, and only Uncle Vernon’s snores sounded in the house. With two pairs of socks on, she moved, without raising a foot, across the floor and to the backyard. She held her breath and raised the lock of the sliding glass door. Still, nothing but the sound of snores. Inch by inch, Siria crept the door open, until she could squeeze herself through. Then, inch by inch, she slid it shut. She put on her worn and hole ridden sneakers, and ran.  
“Snuffles!” Siria called, her whisper was excited, but still quiet. A huge, bushy black dog wagged its tail, and ran to her. He stopped, just in front of her and sat. “There’s a good boy.” She told him. Siria immediately began to pet the dog and pamper him with affection.  
“You’ll never guess where I went today!” She paused, as if Snuffles could actually tell her his guess. “The zoo!” Siria went on, in comical and wild animation of hand movements. She told him how she’d gotten to eat a lemon ice pop, ice cream, and how there was a gorilla that, if it were blonde, could have been Dudley. Snuffles wagged his tail and nodded. Just as excited as she was to tell him, he was excited to hear her.  
Finally, she came to the reptile house. The massive dog nudged her to continue, and she wrapped him in a hug. “Okay.” All while she spoke, Siria cradled her knees. She told Snuffles how, just like she could talk to him, she talked at the snake at the zoo. Snuffles was a bit taken aback, but Siria assured him the snake was nothing like you’d think a snake would be: he had been kind, playful, and thankful. She then told him how, even though it wasn’t her fault at all, she’d been blamed for the snake getting out.  
By the time Siria had finished telling Snuffles, it had gotten rather late. Snuffles walked her home, and Siria told him not to expect her for awhile. She was rather surprised Uncle Vernon hadn’t locked her in her cupboard, but he may have had too much brandy. Snuffles watched her slide the door, inch by inch open, then inch by inch closed. She waved to him, from the kitchen, and gave the dog a weak smile. Little did she know that very soon, she would know why the Dursleys had always blamed her for things, and why she could talk to Snuffles, but not other dogs.


	2. Letters From No One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not figured out how to indent paragraphs on here. The work is also on fanfiction, and I'll update on Wednesdays

**Letters From No One**  


(Book: 31-38, but it picks up just after having made the one trip to Dudley’s second bedroom.)  
Rather than hopelessly pacing her room, Siria looked at her watch. Snuffles was at the park. He would understand. Maybe he would even help her figure a way to get a letter. She crept downstairs, which wasn’t hard. Dudley was still wailing and pounding his Smeltings stick on things. No one even noticed the front door open and close. In her excitement, Siria sprinted as fast as she could all the way to the park. Upon seeing Snuffles, and being too winded to tell him right away, she realized it was a terrible idea to have ran. Concerned, Snuffles had circled around her several times, and seemed to be debating something. “Fine” she gasped, “I’m fine!” Once she had her breath, she jumped right in…  
“And then,” Siria threw her arms up and plopped into the grass. She shook her head and looked at Snuffles “Then Uncle Vernon burned it.” Snuffles looked as appalled as Siria felt. “You know, I reckon that’s the only letter I’ve gotten that wasn’t from you.” It was very rare for Snuffles to bring her letters, but everyone was very clearly addressed to her.  
Her first letter, very simply read:  


HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY  


Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)  
Dear Ms. Potter,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.  
Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress  


Siria’s heart thundered in her ears while questions exploded in her mind. She had to write back, immediately! Tell them “yes”, somehow. They were waiting for owl….  
“Snuffles, what do they mean my owl?” She wondered aloud. “Can I send you? Can you tell them ‘yes’? How do I get there? Oh, what am I going to do?” She wondered aloud. Snuffles nudged his wet nose to her cheek. The world seemed to spin around her. She’d been accepted to a school, probably better than Smeltings ever could be and, even if it wasn’t, it had to be better than Stonewall High. Siria looked at the name again “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry” and her heart sunk.  
“Oh, Snuffles!” She dropped down into the grass. The grey eyes of the large black dog widened. This wasn’t what he was expecting. Siria should be excited, elated. “This can’t be the right letter.” She told him. “It looks right, but it says I’ve been accepted to one of the magic schools from the books you brought me.” Siria rolled onto her side. A thin, pale arm reached out and petted Snuffles’s warm fur.  
Her bright, green eyes closed and imaged it: being able to go to Hogwarts. She’d be able to make friends, study how to turn things into other things, bring objects to her or push them away, to make things change color or size, and maybe she’d even learn to fly a broom. Siria imagined being able to make amazing clothes with the flick of her wand, never having to go hungry again, and being able to take care of Snuffles. It was only because her almond eyes were closed that she was able to keep the tears in.  
After a while of laying in the grass, Siria got up and hugged Snuffles. She requested he tell the letter writer thank you, and that she really wished she could go to Hogwarts. Heavy hearted, Siria returned to Number 4, with the letter. Despite only being made of parchment, it weighed down on her like lead shoes.  
(Book: 38-45 As per the book, letters continue to be sent. Thing escalate, and they end up on the rock)  



	3. The Keeper of the Keys

**The Keeper of the Keys**  


(Boom, Dudley stupidly asks “Where’s the canon?”, the door crashes down, and a giant of a man squeezed into the hut)  
Behind the giant was a handsome man. He had fine, hair and elegant features. His grey eyes were kind, and almost familiar to Siria. Normally, he would have looked a little tall, but, standing next to the giant who was brushing the ceiling, he looked rather small.  
The giant of a man picked up the door, and fitted it easily back into its frame. It caused the noise from the storm dropped a little. He and the handsome man looked at them all.  
“Couldn’t make us a cup o’ tea, could yeh? It’s not been an easy journey…” the giant told them.  
While the handsome stranger waited by the door, and other strode over to the sofa, where Dudley sat frozen with fear. [...]  
(book)  
“Th— thank you, but who are you?” Siria asked the giant and looked to other gentleman. The giant chuckled, and the handsome man’s smile spread. Finally, the latter came over, but didn’t take a seat.  
“True, we haven’t introduced ourselves,” acknowledged the handsome man, “Sirius Black. Just Sirius, please”  
“Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. Yer can call meh Hagrid, everyone does.”  
“Hogwarts?” She questioned, but took out his extended arm. Hagrid shook Siria’s whole arm.  
“Yeah. How ‘bout that tea then, eh?” He seemed to not realise she’d asked about Hogwarts. Sirius, however, directed her attention to himself.  
“Surely, you know all about Hogwarts.” He told her, while the giant, Rubeus Hagrid ruffled with his coat. A fire roared to life in the empty grate. It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light and Siria felt the warmth wash over her like Snuffles’s coat in summer.  
“It’s just a setting.” Siria told them, “You know, like Brobdingnag or Brigadoon.”  
“Like whert?” Hagrid asked. He strung some sausages onto a poker and began cooking them over the fire.  
“Fictional Muggle places.” Sirius told him.  
“Hogwarts is just in books.” She added.  
“Just in books!” Hagrid exclaimed. “Just in books? Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learned it all?” (book)  
“[...] An’ I reckon it’s abou’ time yeh read yer letter.”  
Siria took hold of yellowish envelope. Just like the one Snuffles had, and all the ones she’d seen, it was addressed, as clearly as could be, to her: Ms. S. Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. She pulled out the letter and read it over.  
“But…” She paused and read it over again. This couldn’t be right. It was, word-for-word, the letter Snuffles had brought her. Siria placed her thumbnail between her teeth and read again. If she hadn’t known the Dursleys had no sense of humor, she’d think they were playing a joke on her. Siria sat on the arm of the sagging sofa. “It says that they’re awaiting my owl, but— “  
“Gallopin’ Gorgons, that reminds me,” said Hagrid and, as if he were just making a telephone call, pulled on owl, quill, and piece of parchment out of his cloak. He scratched out a note, gave it to the owl, and threw it out into the storm. He then sat right back down. Siria looked to handsome gentleman, for explanation.  
“Our version of the Postal Service.” He told her.  
(Then book, there was a wizard as bad as wizards gets called Voldemort, people didn’t trust each other, there was fear everywhere, Hogwarts was the only safe place because Voldemort wouldn’t dare take the school with Dumbledore there, and no one knows why, but Voldemort came for Siria’s parents, murdered them, but couldn’t murder Siria, giving her the lightning scar on her head, and he’s gone, but some people aren’t sure that Voldemort isn’t out there, biding his time. While Hagrid is talking, Siria sees the green flash from the spell, hears Voldemort’s cold laugh. Uncle Vernon is threatened by Hagrid’s pink umbrella, and Sirius’s wand. She accepts being a witch because, why wouldn’t she? All the strange things that happened to her, and making the glass at the zoo vanish.  
From “Where was I?” to “But Uncle Vernon wasn’t going to give in without a fight”)  
“Haven’t I told you that she’s not going?” Uncle Vernon barked at the men. “She’ll be going to Stonewall High and will be grateful for it. I’ve read those letters and she needs all sorts of rubbish— spell books and wands and— “  
“If she wants to go, she’s going” Sirius withdrew a polished, rune covered brown— well, Siria didn’t know what else to consider it— it was a wand. Uncle Vernon shuddered, but held his ground. Hagrid was just as outraged. His shouts bellowed through the hut.  
“Stop Lily an’ James Potter’s daugh’er goin’ ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. She’s been down ever since she was born. She’s off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there an’ she won’ know ‘erself. She’ll be with youngsters of ‘er own sort, fer a change, an’ under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbl— “  
“I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HER MAGIC TRICKS!” yelled Uncle Vernon, but he’d finally crossed the line. Sirius raised his wand before anyone could blink. Siria jumped between him and the Dursleys, she couldn’t believe herself. She didn’t know what he would do to them, and certainly didn’t want to be stopped from going, but was in between them before either knew what had happened.  
Neither Hagrid or the Dursleys had even noticed the exchange. When Sirius had raised his wand, which had been lowered just as quickly as Siria had jumped in the way, Hagrid had seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head. The giant filled the room with his roaring “NEVER— INSULT— ALBUS—DUMBLEDORE—IN—FRONT—OF—ME!”  
There was a sound like a firecracker, and a violet light flashed through the hut. Siria turned in time to see Dudley, dancing around with his hands over his bottom. He was howling in pain, trying to cover up a curly pig’s tail poking through his trousers. Uncle Vernon growled, but he pulled Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room. He gave them all one last furious, terrified look at Hagrid before slamming the door shut.  
Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard. Sirius had put his wand away. “Shouldn’ta lost me temper,” Hagrid confessed ruefully, “but it didn’t work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig.” He shrugged. “Suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn’t much left ter do.”  
In an attempt to make himself seem more friendly, Sirius leaned against the back of the still slumping sofa. He kept his hands in front of him, and smiled, weakly, at her. Hagrid looked from Sirius to Siria, “Be grateful if yeh didn’t mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts,” (from book, Hagrid got expelled, she won’t mention it, and they’ve got a lot to do tomorrow, so they ought to go to bed)  
“You can kip under than” Hagrid offered, taking off his thick, black coat.  
“Thank you,” Siria told him, “but I’m alright.” She held up her Moony & Padfoot blanket. It was a lovely, quilted blanket with blocks made of stars, moons, and happy cartoon dogs. With the fire burning next to her spot on the floor, it would be perfectly warm.  
Sirius pulled out his wand and tapped the small coffee table. It morphed into a set of bunkbeds. They still looked a bit like the coffee table because they were made of the same colored wood, but, if Siria hadn’t seen him turn the table into a bed, she’d have believed the bunkbeds had always been bunkbeds. He tucked the wand back into his jacket’s inner pocket.  
“Which would you like?” he asked.  
Siria thought he was talking to Hagrid, but Hagrid had made himself comfortable on the sofa. She looked to Sirius.  
“Me?” She asked.  
“Yes.” He nodded.  
Siria looked at the wooden ladder, to the top bunk, and wondered if it would really be okay. The kind grey eyes of Sirius smiled at her, and he waited very patiently.  
“C— could I have the top bunk?” She wished aloud.  
He nodded, and gestured for her to take it. Siria climbed the short ladder, and curled up in the bunk. Sirius took the bed under, and the three fell asleep to the sound of crashing storm.


	4. Diagon Alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siria's trip to Diagon Alley

**Diagon Alley**   


(NOTE: As per an interview with J.K. Rowling, James is a Chaser. I know the movie has him as a Seeker, but she says he was a Chaser. The interview is here:  
http://www.accio-quote.org/articles/2000/1000-scholastic-chat.htm  
There are things I’m sure I’ll have that are not canonical, but I intend to be true to the facts that do not impair the story I want to tell, which I started writing for the sake of writing and my best friend)  
Siria woke early the next morning. Sleepily, she rolled over in her bed. She grumbled, and turned onto her back. Her palms rubbed her eyes into opening. The dirty ceiling of the hut greeted her. It wasn’t a dream. A giant called Hagrid and an elegant gentleman came to tell her she was a witch, her parents were magic, and she was going to a school for magic. One of her legs flew over the side of the bed, and she hopped down.   
Rubeus Hagrid, the giant, was sleeping under his coat. His snores had died in the night, much like the storm. At least twice as tall, and four times as any person Siria had seen, he was a sight to be seen. He was a wild haired man, with tiny eyes that poked through his mane of hair. Hagrid’s massive hand could easily cover Siria’s arm.  
For as wild and huge as Hagrid was, the other man was elegant and thin. Sirius slept on the bottom bunk. With how still and quiet he slept, he could have been mistaken for Sleeping Beauty. His black hair was very fine, and had a lustrous glisten to it. He also had very elegant, kind grey eyes. Something about his eyes were very familiar, as if Siria had always known them, but she couldn’t place them.  
Sitting down on the dirt floor of the hut, Siria stretched out. The bed had been the most comfortable she’d ever slept on, despite the fact it used to be a table. While she held her toes, Siria admired the magic Sirius had performed. No matter what angle, or where she looked at the bed, it was a bunkbed. A balloon of happiness was swelling inside her chest. September 1st, she’d be at Hogwarts.  
Tapping at the window pulled her attention from the former coffee table. There was an owl outside with a paper in its beak. Siria wandered over, and pulled the window open. The owl fluttered over and dropped the newspaper right on Hagrid. It then began to peck at his coat.  
“Hagrid!” Siria tried to wake him, “There’s an owl— “  
“Pay ‘im” Hagrid grunted, and shifted on the sofa, but didn’t stir.  
“Pay him?” She asked.  
To her great relief, Sirius sat up. He reached into his pocket and gave the owl five small pieces of bronze. The owl held a small, leather pouch to him, and Sirius placed the bronze pieces in. Having done his job, the owl ruffled its feathers, and left.  
Money. Thought Siria. It was like someone had just pierced the balloon of happiness in her heart. She didn’t have wizard money...she didn’t have any money. Sirius got out of the bed, took his wand from his jacket pocket, and tapped the bunk bed. It turned back into the coffee table. Hagrid shifted onto his feet, and put his coat on.  
“I— “ her voice got stuck in her throat. “I’m so sorry.” She told them. They’d wasted all this time, even stayed the night. “I can’t go to Hogwarts; I don’t have any money.”  
“Don’t worry about that,” Hagrid assured her, “D’yeh think yer parents didn’t leave yeh anything?”  
“They’ve left you a vault at Gringotts.” Sirius reassured her. “The Wizards’ bank.”  
“Wizards’ bank?”  
“Yup— run by goblins.” Hagrid told her.  
After reading all about goblin revolutions in books that Snuffles had brought her, she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. It stood that, if Hogwarts is real, the other magical places and the magical creatures are too. Goblins were good with magic and traps, and very clever. There probably wasn’t any being better than a goblin to build and guard a bank of magic money.  
“Do you have your things together?” Sirius asked her.  
“Except the blanket,” she replied.   
Siria quickly reached for her bag, but, when she picked it up, the strap tore and the contents fell out. The two knelt down, and began putting the few items back in. He picked up a small, pocket sewing kit. It was mostly empty, except for a bit of yellow and orange thread, which probably weren’t enough to even repair the broken strap. There were six other spools, which were completely empty. Siria felt her cheeks flush, but put the other items in the bag. She held her hand out, for the kit, but didn’t look at him.  
“It’s empty.” He told her. She bit her lip and shook her head.  
“There’s enough.” She insisted.  
Snuffles had given it to her two Christmases ago. Even though he’d brought her a new one, she couldn’t throw the old one out. Not only had it been her first sewing kit, it was a gift from Snuffles. She couldn’t take care of Snuffles; he didn’t accept any of the food she brought him, and there were only so many collars, bandanas, and scarfs you could make one dog, or times you could brush the dog. If she couldn’t take care of him, like her parents did, she was going to take care of everything he gave her. Siria was going to show Snuffles she was great at taking care of things until he felt she was worthy of taking care of him.  
With a smile on his face, Sirius put the mostly empty sewing kit into her hand. Hagrid had folded up her Moony & Padfoot blanket, which he handed to her. She placed the items in her bag, and the three headed out.  
The weather was so clear and sunny, it almost looked like there hadn’t been a storm. Water at the bottom of the Dursleys’ boat was the only evidence. Even the ground had dried nicely. Really, the only odd thing was that there was only one boat.  
“How did you get here?” She asked them.  
“Flew.” Hagrid replied. Siria tried to picture Hagrid and Sirius in the sky. With the storm, they probably weren’t all that noticeable. Today, however, Hagrid might be mistaken for a small plane.  
“We’ll be taking the boat back, though.” Sirius answered before she’d ask. That would probably be for the best, at least until she learned some magic.  
When it had been her and the Dursleys, they fit comfortably in the boat. Now, with Hagrid, who was larger than Uncle Vernon and Dudley merged, and Sirius, it was a little snug. “Be a shame to row it.” Hagrid told Sirius.  
“We won’t be seen. Could I have the sports?” Sirius asked Hagrid.  
Hagrid handed the newspaper to him, then tapped the oars with his umbrella, and they started rowing. Once he had the sports section out, he handed it back to Hagrid. The two gentlemen opened up their papers, and began to read. Siria fidgeted a little by rocking her feet as the boat sped onward. She leaned back, to look at what Sirius was reading.   
At first it looked like a blur zipping through a picture. After watching the blur zoom through the picture a few times, Siria realized it was a person in robes. They were riding a broom, and seemed to chasing after something even faster than them. Every time the person flew out, something like a tiny, flying walnut zipped into frame, only to disappear before the person made it into view.  
Her legs continued to rock, as she looked at the newspaper section. The person in the picture was in an article about “The Longest Quidditch Games, So Far” She’d never had so many questions at once. The Dursleys hated questions, and Uncle Vernon hated them most when he read his paper. Hagrid and Sirius had answered all her questions so far, except why Hagrid had been expelled. She supposed that it had been a rather personal question.  
“Yes?” Sirius asked. Either she was being more obvious than she thought, or he just knew.  
“What’s Quidditch?” She asked.  
“Whert’s Quidditch?” Hagrid echoed. He closed his paper in disbelief.  
“It’s our sport, and we watch it like Muggles watch football.” Sirius told her. He then broke into an explanation of the sport.  
There are six hoops, three on each team. A Keeper guards the goals, like a goalie in football. Three Chasers are on each team and they try to score past the other team’s Keeper with a red ball, called a Quaffle. Each goal with the Quaffle is worth ten points.  
While that is happening, there are two Bludgers, black softball sized balls, that fly around trying to hit players. They will sometimes hurt someone, but no one’s ever been killed by one. Each team has two Beaters, who try to beat the Bludgers at the other the other.  
Then, each team has a Seeker. The Seeker is in charge of one thing: catching the Golden Snitch. It’s a small, golden winged ball that flies faster than any other. Once the Snitch has been caught, the Seeker’s team gets 150 points, and usually wins.  
“There are, of course, fouls, but we’ll wait until you see a game before we go into more.” Sirius told her. “Hogwarts has a team for each House.” At this moment, the boat bumped gently into the harbor wall. Hagrid and Sirius folded up their newspaper, and they clambered up the stone steps, to the street.  
Even if Hagrid had been completely silent, passersby would have stopped to stare at him. He was a giant of a man. Siria knew he didn’t mean to, but he drew more attention to them by pointing at perfectly normal things like parking meters and saying loudly, “See that, Sirius? Thing these Muggles dream up, eh?”  
Sirius seemed much more accustomed to Muggle things. He didn’t bat an eye at the parking meters or stop lights. It was helpful because then Siria could ask him all the questions she wanted.  
“How are the goblins going to know which vault is mine?” She asked.  
“I’ve got yer key.” Hagrid told her, patting one of the many pockets on his jacket.  
“What happens if someone loses their key?”  
“Dunno.” Hagrid confessed.  
“Some families don’t need a key.” Sirius told her. “Gringotts is full of spells and enchantments, probably enough to get a new key, for vaults that need one.”  
“Do yer ‘ave a dragon guardin’ er vault?” Hagrid asked Sirius.  
“A dragon?” Siria exclaimed. Sirius shook his head.  
“Some people say there are dragons that guard the deeper vaults.” Sirius told her. “If there is one guarding mine, I haven’t seen it.”  
“Crickey,” Hagrid confessed, “I’d like a dragon.”  
“Do they make good pets?” Siria asked.  
In chorus, Sirius told her “No.” and Hagrid told her “Yes.” She felt a little more inclined to believe Sirius. A fire breathing dragon didn’t sound like a good pet, even if it only grew to be half as big as Hagrid. Dragons probably grew to be much larger than him though.  
They reached the station. There was a train to London in five minutes’ time. Hagrid, who didn’t understand “Muggle money,” as he called it, handed the bills to Siria. “Don’t worry about it.” Sirius told them. He bought the tickets with a credit card, and Siria returned the bills to Hagrid.  
People stared at Hagrid even more on the train. Hagrid took up two seats, and sat knitting what looked like a yellow circus tent. “How did yer buy ‘em wit’ that an’ get it back?” Hagrid asked Sirius. Sirius sighed,  
“For the third time, my Muggle Money vault is connected to this card. It is held electronically, and this black strip, is used to connect them.” Siria supposed that was how credit cards worked.  
“Right” said Hagrid, who was counting stitches and didn’t seem to believe him, or else didn’t understand.  
“Siria” Hagrid called, “still got yer letter?  
“Of course!” She pulled out the letter she had gotten from Snuffles. Siria would have to apologize to him the next time she saw him. Right now, Snuffles was at 5 o’clock, wherever that was. There was a second page, which she hadn’t noticed before. She opened the second page to find a supply list, which read:  
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY  
UNIFORM  
First-year students will require:  
1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
4\. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)  
Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.  
COURSE BOOKS  
All students should have a copy of each of the following:  
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk  
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot  
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling  
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch  
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore  
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger  
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander  
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble  
OTHER EQUIPMENT  
1 wand  
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
1 set glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope  
1 set brass scales  
Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.  
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

“And we can find this in London?” Siria asked them.  
“If yer know where to go.” Hagrid told her.  
Siria had never been to London. The Dursleys would leave her at Mrs. Figg’s, or else Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia would stay behind while the other took Dudley. Although Hagrid seemed to know where he was going, he obviously didn’t go there this way often. He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground, and complained loudly that the seats were too small, and trains too slow. Hagrid had also almost boarded the wrong transfer, but Sirius pointed them to the correct one in time. Sirius seemed vaguely familiar with getting wherever they were going, but kept checking his phone to make sure they were on the right track.  
“I don’t know how Muggles manage without magic,” Hagrid said as they climbed a broken-down escalator that led up to a bustling road lined with shops. Hagrid was so large that he easily parted the crowd. Sirius still held Siria’s hand, so she couldn’t be separated from them. “How do wizards get around?” She asked him, as they followed in the part Hagrid formed.  
“Well, some will Apparate,” He told her, “which lets a person kind of teleport from where they are to where they want to go. It’s very complicated magic, so only adult wizards that have passed the test are allowed to. Apparating with other people makes it more difficult, and I’m not particularly fond of it myself.”  
“Because it’s hard?” She asked.  
“Once you get the hang of it, it’s easier, but it’s not pleasant. I’d rather go by broom, which is how it sounds.”  
“Are first years not allowed broom because we’ll leave school?” She asked.  
“Oh, no. It’s because many of them think they’re good at flying, and learn they’re not.” Sirius told her. “There are less injuries in the second year. First years also haven’t made the Quidditch team in a long while. Your father, James, was a Chaser for Gryffindor, not in our first year though.”  
“Your first year?” She asked. He knew her father.  
“‘Ere we are!” Hagrid called.  
Siria snapped her attention away from Sirius and to the shops. In between a record shop and a big bookshop was a grubby little pub. If Hagrid hadn’t pointed it out, Siria wouldn’t have noticed it. In fact, it seemed no one else had noticed it. The people in the street walked passed, their eyes jumping from the bookshop to record shop. She opened her mouth to ask if it was magic, but Hagrid ushered them into what he called the “Famous Leaky Cauldron.”  
Unless it was famous for being very dark and shabby, Siria didn’t see how it could be. There was a layer of grime on the floor that would have made Aunt Petunia shudder in horror. Dusty looking candles provided the little light that lit the Leaky Cauldron. There was hardly anyone inside, and the little chatter was cut when Hagrid entered. Everyone there seemed to know him; they waved, smiled, and a little man in a top hat at the bar called him over. “The usual?” the bartender asked him, reaching for a glass.  
“Can’t Tom. I’m on Hogwarts business,” said Hagrid, clapping his great hand on Siria’s shoulder. Her knees buckled, but she caught herself on Sirius’s jacket. He didn’t seem to mind.  
“Merlin’s Beard!” said the bartender, peering at her, “is this— can this be— ?”  
The Leaky Cauldron had gone so still and silent, as all eyes rested on her. Siria had never known herself to be so shy, but she’d also never known not being invisible or bullied.   
“Bless my soul” whispered Tom, the old bartender, “Siria Potter...what an honor.”  
[Book, from “He hurried out from behind the bar” to Madam Malkin’s shop (everyone in the Leaky Cauldron shakes Siria’s hand, she meets Professor Quirrell, Hagrid and Sirius usher her through and into the small walled courtyard. She sees Diagon Alley, doesn’t know where to look, there are cauldrons, an Apothecary, an owl emporium, broom shop, books, and general school supplies. They go to the towering white building that is Gringotts, with the warning “Enter, stranger, but take heed/Of what awaits the sin of greed [...]”, go to Siria’s vault for some money (29 Kunts to a Sickle, 17 Sickles to a Gallon), then Sirius’s, and finally vault 713, where Hagrid grabs a small, package, and tells Siria not to tell anyone. Hagrid and Sirius break off for a drink, having been made a little ill from the cart ride, but Siria is beaming with energy and goes to get her uniform. Madam Malkin sets Siria up on a stool, and begins to pin her robes while another witch pins the robes of the boy next to her.]  
“Hello,” said the boy, “Hogwarts, too?”  
“Yes.” said Siria.  
He went on to tell her his father was getting his books, and mother was looking at wands. The pale boy continued that he intended to try and bully his parents into letting him get one.  
“We aren’t allowed brooms until second year because first years kept getting hurt.” She jumped in when he asked, but didn’t really want an answer to, why first years couldn’t have brooms.  
“Hmm” he sighed in a bored and drawling voice.   
Siria was thankful that Madam Malkin had her in such away that Siria’s back was facing the boy. All she could really see of him, through the mirrors around the room, was his white-blonde hair. Hopefully, that meant all he could really see of her was her messy braid of black hair. He asked if she flew, then if she played Quidditch, and she replied “No,” to each.  
“I do” he bragged to her. “Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my House. Know which one you’ll be in?”  
“What House do you think you’ll be in?” She asked. She was tired of saying “No.”  
“Slytherin, of course.” He assured her. “All my family’s been in Slytherin.”  
“That’s amazing!” She exclaimed. Madam Malkin smiled, she had seen Siria roll her eyes, the boy on the stool behind her had not. She watched his reflection straighten in the mirror.  
“Yes. It is quite impressive. Maybe you’ll be Slytherin too.” He proposed.  
“Oh, I could only dream of being in the same House as you.” She told him in her most admiring voice.   
It was around now that Siria had sincerely regretted the last time she handed “Hogwarts, A History” back to Snuffles. For as dry as the book was, it was informative. Now that Siria knew Hogwarts was a real place, the book might actually be interesting. She’d also be able to tell him which House she hoped to be in. Right now, even if she could talk to snakes, she didn’t want to be Slytherin. Slytherin and Ravenclaw had easy animals: a serpent and a raven. Gryffindor wasn’t a Griffin and she didn’t know what a Hufflepuff was, only that they were good at finding.  
“I say, look at that man!” the boy exclaimed, snapping Siria back to the shop. He nodded to the window. Hagrid stood outside with an ice cream, and jestered over his shoulder. Sirius was sitting down with two ice creams. He waved to her with a friendly smile. She wanted to wave back, but Madam Malkin was sewing her robes still.  
“That’s Hagrid. He’s the Keeper of Keys and Games at Hogwarts!” She told the boy.  
“I hear he’s a kind of savage— my father says he sometimes gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting his bed on fire.”  
“I’d like to see you do magic drunk!” Siria didn’t have any experience being drunk, but knew adults couldn’t drive drunk. Uncle Vernon would, when Aunt Petunia had gone to bed, make Siria reply to text messages for him because he couldn’t text when drunk.  
“I could do it fine.” He assured her.  
“When we’re old enough to get drunk, I’ll hold you to it, and be there to put the fire out.” She told him.  
“All done, dear.” Madam Malkin told Siria. She hopped down, and was elated to not have to talk to the boy anymore.  
“See you at Hogwarts, I suppose,” said the boy.  
“See you there!” She told him.  
Siria swung her legs back and forth as they sat and ate their ice cream. Sirius had gotten her a half chocolate hazelnut and half raspberry, with marshmallows. She looked to her watch and saw like, much like when she’d arrived, Snuffles was at 9 o’clock. Him being there twisted her stomach a bit. He hadn’t been at the park since she told him he gave her the wrong letter. What if Snuffles was mad at her? He had brought her the right letter.  
“Tha’s a pretty watch.” Hagrid told her.  
“Thank you!” Siria gave her brightest smile yet. “Snuffles gave it to me. It’s my favorite thing in the world.” Not that she had many things, but Siria liked to imagine she would love the watch just as much if she did.  
Afterall, it was because she had told Snuffles how much she wanted to know when he was there, that he’d given it to her. It told her when Snuffles was at the park or, she assumed, at his other favorite places. Just as handy as that, even though he had given her the watch five years ago, she’d never had to replace the battery— not once.  
“Snuffles?” Hagrid asked. He raised an eyebrow at Sirius. Siria was far too enamoured with her watch to notice.   
“I think it’s a fine name.” Sirius told Hagrid.  
“No where near ‘s good as ‘Padfoot’ though.” Hagrid replied.  
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly change his name.” Siria told them. “Besides, that’s the name of a clothing line, Moony & Padfoot.”  
“Is it now? The names ‘ese Muggles come up wit’ for thin’s.” He remarked, not looking away from Sirius. Sirius simply smiled back at him. The three finished off their ice creams, and went to the bookstore.  
Upon just stepping into the stop, a walking stick was held out before them. They stopped in their tracks, though any one of them could have continued on. Though the walking stick was rather simple, a straight, polished black one, it had been decorated with a silver snake’s head for the handle. Aged to adulthood, the boy she met in the shop seemed to stand before them. He had a very similar pointed face, was just as pale as the boy, and they had the same platinum blonde hair. Family likeness of this level between father and son, she’d seen every day with Uncle Vernon and Dudley.  
“Sirius and Siria” the stranger smiled a cold, heartless smile that didn’t touch his grey eyes at all. Siria took hold of Sirius’s hand. The grey eyes that were looking at her from the stranger had none of the familiar friendliness she found in Sirius’s. “Reunited at last!” He lowered his walking stick. “How lovely.”  
“Thank you.” Siria forced a smile back at him. She didn’t remember meeting Sirius, but, if he’d known her father, maybe they had known each other.  
“Lucius,” Sirius scowled.  
“What do yer want, Malfoy?” Hagrid bellowed.  
Lucius Malfoy looked up at the giant that was Hagrid, but in a way that made Siria feel he didn’t think Hagrid was all that big. Mr. Malfoy looked to Siria, with a glare in his eye and a smile on his lips, then looked to Sirius and mirrored the scowl Sirius was giving him.  
“Just welcoming Young Siria Potter back to the Wizarding World. She’s been missed.”  
“If that’s all,” Sirius told him, “Consider her welcomed.”  
“Got plen’y o’ shoppin’ left ter do.” Hagrid said, loudly.  
“Of course,” He stepped to the side, “be my guest,” and he left.  
“Pretty sure I met his son at the robe shop.” Siria told them, “but what did he mean we were reunited?”  
“Best be gettin’ yer books.” Hagrid told her, and wandered into Flourish and Blotts.  
“Well,” Sirius knelt down to her eye level. His kind grey eyes looked worried. “I, like Hagrid, saw you when you were a baby.” There was a crease in his forehead, which was getting larger. “Lily, your mother, was my friend, and James, was my best friend, from our very first trip to Hogwarts together. We sat in the same compartment, and hit it off.”  
Sirius shifted uneasily. He seemed to want to tell her more, but didn’t seem to know how. She wanted to know more, but, he had been so UnDursleyish, and let her ask all the questions she’d wanted about everything else. Siria didn’t want to push her luck.  
“You know,” She told him, “I love books, and want to look around a bit. May I?”  
“Of course.” He smiled a weak, but still kind smile at her. She let go of his hand, and wandered the store. There were more books in here than in her old school’s library. Books upon books, with many the likes of which she’d never dreamed of. Tiny books that could fit in the palm of her hand were across from some almost as large as she was. Symbols that were most likely runes dominated an entire section of the store.  
Curses and Counter-Curses caught her attention. “Mimble Wimble” she whispered, and made the motion the book described with an empty hand. Naturally, nothing happened without a wand and target, but she continued a few times. Hagrid had collected the books on her list. “Could I get this one?” She asked him.  
“If yer really wan’ one, Sirius ‘as a copy.” Hagrid told her.  
“Where is he?” She asked.  
“Ge’in’ other supplies.” He told her.  
She was relieved to hear Sirius hadn’t gone home. Maybe he’d let her borrow the book. Or, maybe, he’d finish telling her what he wanted to say.   
“Now, Sirius is ge’in’ yer cauldron, scales, and telescope. That’ll be just yer wand left— oh yeah, an’ I still haven’t got yer birthday present.” Hagrid told her.  
“You got me a cake” She reminded him, feeling herself go red. “You don’t have— “  
“I know I don’t have to.” He stroked his beard, thinking. “I’ll get yer animal. Mind, can’t get a toad, yeh’d be laughed at— an’ I don’ like cats, they make me sneeze. I’ll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they’re dead useful, carry yer mail an’ everythin’.”  
(book, they get the snowy owl, and Siria stammers her thanks, and onto get her wand)  
When they entered Ollivander's, the ding of the shop bell was drowned out by Siria crying out “Snuffles!” She placed the snowy owl and its cage down by the only chair in the small waiting area. Though the narrow shop seemed to go on forever, every bit of space behind the counter was full of thin boxes. A man called from the back of the shop, “Just a minute,” but Siria didn’t care—Snuffles was here, and seemed to have waited for her.  
“Thank goodness! You haven’t been to the park since I said the letter was wrong, and I thought—“ but her thought was lost when Snuffles went from a big, black, furry bear of a dog to “Sirius?”  
The handsome youngman smiled sheepishly, and waved weakly. His kind, elegant grey eyes were shadowed by the crease growing on his forehead. Hagrid sat down on the chair, which, as Siria failed to notice before, had her other school supplies beside it.  
“I promise to explain,” Sirius told her, but the man from the back of the shop came up, and it suddenly didn’t seem the place to be told the dog she had grown to love and treasure as her only friend was a man that was stranger. It did, at least explain how she could talk to Snuffles, and have him understand, but not other dogs. Though it was unlikely the boa constrictor had also been a wizard, she’d have to try talking to other snakes, to be sure.  
(book, Ollivander goes over Hagrid [& Sirius’s wands] then finds one for Siria, which happens to have a tail feather from the same pheonix as the one inside Voldemort’s wand. Then they all go for burgers, before her train. Hagrid asks if she’s alright, and she doesn’t know how to explain because she’s famous for something she did as a one-year-old, and what if she’s actually terrible at magic. He gives Siria her ticket, and loads her on a train, back to the Dursley’s, with Sirius.)  
Siria turned to wave to Hagrid, but he was gone. “Did he ‘Apparate’?” She asked Sirius.  
“Yes.” He told her. Sirius shifted in his seat. With how he was acting, it was as if someone managed to put a tack on his chair and glue him there. He kept making little adjustments, and shifting how he sat with his legs. Siria wanted to ask if he was okay, but didn’t want to draw attention to how uncomfortable he seemed, and make him more uncomfortable.  
“So,” He began, and linked his fingers in his lap, “I— you know how the Dursleys took you in?” She nodded. “Well, I— I wanted to. James and Lily made me your Godfather, but, because the Dursleys agreed to have you, I couldn’t…” Though Sirius paused, he didn’t seem to be finished. If nothing else, he wasn’t finished shifting around on his chair.  
For a moment, Siria wondered what living with Sirius would have been like. He was so desperate to see her, to repay her mum and dad for taking care of him, that he dropped what he was doing to turn into a dog and sit in park for her. Of course his eyes had looked familiar, he was Snuffles— her best and only friend, who happened to have been her father’s best friend.  
"I fought for you." He told her, "At least, I tried. A man much wiser than I am told me that you being with the Dursleys would be more safe than being with me. If you were raised away from all the fame and darkness of James―your parents' deaths, you'd grow up better." Sirius didn't look like he agreed with the wiser man. He gazed out the window, not really seeing what he was looking it.  
"The Dursleys said that, if they raised you, they wouldn't have any of our kind involved. They, of course, had seen the man, Sirius Black, but had not seen the dog. James and his parents took great care of me. When I ran away, James's parents took me, without me even asking. The Potters treated me like a second son, they had since our first summer holiday."  
Siria couldn't understand why Sirius was still shifting around. Though she didn't know her father, she wanted to believe he wouldn't have wanted his best friend― his brother, even, to drop everything for her. Yet here he sat, shifting uneasily, like he was guilty.  
Hadn’t he been there to listen? He’d given her a watch, which told her where he was. When she vented about always being given the old, worn and hole-ridden sheets, he’d brought her a fine quilt, which still kept her warm. After seeing the hand-me-downs that she was going to be sent to school in, he had brought her clothes. It was better care and actual concern, than the Dursleys after all.  
“Why do the Dursleys keep me, if you were willing to take me, and they hate my…” Siria didn’t want to call call it “magic,” with all the Muggles, but didn’t know what else to call it. Her gift? Talent? She rather felt the Dursleys wouldn’t consider it either.  
“Because it kept you safe. As much as I don’t like her, Petunia lost her sister, and you were the only piece left of Lily.” He confessed. The two fell silent. Siria had gotten so much to think about, she didn’t know how she’d keep it straight.  
Normal, boring, bullied Siria Potter was in fact a witch. Her parents had been a witch and wizard, and killed by the dark wizard, Voldemort.  
“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to come visit, still.” Sirius murmured.  
“I’d like that.” She smiled.  
The two enjoyed a content silence the rest of the ride to Privet Drive. They didn’t notice that, even without Hagrid, they were attracting attention with their funny shaped packages. Mr. Malfoy had said they were “reunited at last,” but Siria felt they hadn’t ever really parted. A man and his goddaughter or a girl and her dog, they were still Sirius and Siria.


	5. The Locket in the Cupboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Diagon Alley & before The Journey from Platform 9 3/4

**The Locket in the Cupboard**  


[Author’s note: like the diary feels like an old friend to Harry, the other Horcruxes have a connection to Siria. Some of them make a sound, some feel like they call to her, and other reactions. My reasoning for this is that the pieces of Voldemort’s soul want to be put back together. They want Siria to seek them out because they can’t move to her, but she can find them.]  
I’ll usually update on Wednesdays, but may post early, like today.

It had only been a week since Siria learned she was a witch, her favorite dog was her Godfather, and that she was to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on September 1st. Siria, however, was ready to go. Dudley was now so afraid of Siria, he wouldn’t stay in the same room as her. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn’t shut Siria in her cupboard, but they also didn’t talk to her. Any chair which she sat in may as well have been empty. For as much as this was an improvement, it was rather depressing and lonely.  
Siria mostly kept to her room, with the owl Hagrid had given her for company. She had named the owl “Hedwig,” a name from A History of Magic. Though it had only been a week, she had gone through all of her new course books. They were too interesting to not be read. Aside from letting Hedwig out at night, and sneaking downstairs to eat, Siria didn’t have much of anything else to do besides read her school books.  
Sirius had asked if he could still come to visit her, but it had been a week. Normally, when Snuffles was away for a week, he brought her a letter beforehand. Siria supposed that, with everything else that had happened, Sirius needing to leave for a week may have slipped his mind. He’d been at 2 o’clock for almost the whole week, with only the occasional break to 3 o’clock. The next time she saw him, she would have to ask where exactly he was at any where on the clock.  
Hedwig flew into the room, and landed next to her cage. She held a letter in her beak, and looked rather proud of herself. “Thank you,” Siria told her, accepting the letter. “You did a wonderful job. I didn’t expect a reply so soon.” Hedwig went into her cage and took some water. Siria opened the letter.  
At first, Siria had debating writing it. Not only had she never sent a letter by owl, her letter was to Hagrid, who she had only met once, even if he’d seen her twice. Hagrid, however, seemed to write her the reply the moment he’d gotten her letter. Messy letters, some jagged and some smudged covered the parchment of his reply. He seemed very intent on assuring her, as best he could, that Sirius was a good man. Siria didn’t want to doubt Sirius, but she dreamed of some long lost relative coming to claim her for ages. It was odd that, when she’d finally given up hope, she learned someone had. To her, it felt too good to be true.  
Hagrid’s reply read:  
Dear Siria,  
I was worried when I got your letter! Thought the Dursleys were giving you a hard time. Glad it’s about Sirius. Sirius was James’s best friend in school, and best man at their wedding. When you were born, they made Sirius your godfather. Where do you think they got your name? Though they were gonna name you “Harry” if you were a boy, and I don’t know why that was.  
Sirius wanted to keep and raise you, but we all wanted you to be safe. It’s why you had to be raised by the Muggles. Good man, Sirius. Never stopped checking in on you or telling Dumbledore what the Muggles were up to. But you grew up safe, didn’t you? That’s all everyone really wanted.  
Hagrid  
P.S. I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Your new friends can come too.  
Tonight, Siria would let Hedwig rest, and she could send a reply letter tomorrow night. In the meantime though, Sirius Black really had wanted to raised her. Plopping down on her Moony & Padfoot blanket, Siria couldn’t help but smile. She wasn’t alone in the Muggle world and already had Sirius and Hagrid in the Wizarding one. There was a comfort forming inside her as she curled under the blankets to sleep.  
When morning arrived, Siria was delighted to find Sirius was at 6 o’clock. She nearly ripped her nightdress in an attempt to put her jeans on at the same time as she pulled the garment off. Aunt Petunia looked at Siria like she was a mud covered pig, but slid some eggs and bacon onto her plate. They ate in near silence, with their forks chatting with their plates. Siria cleaned up, and dashed out the door.  
What she had expected was the usual, large, shaggy dog. However, Sirius Black himself sat on her favorite swing, reading a Muggle magazine. It was a rather popular fashion magazine that she’d seen the girls at her old school pour over. Reading Muggle fashion magazines was probably how he managed to look so in place and right at home in the Muggle world. Siria sat down on the swing next to him.  
“How are you?” They asked each other, which caused him to smile and her to laugh.  
“I’m a lot better for seeing you!” She told him.  
“What do you mean?” He asked. She shook her head,  
“You’re supposed to tell me how you are.”  
“I’m well and will be better when I hear what’s wrong.” He told her.  
Siria sighed and began to swing. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just happy to have someone to talk to.” He obviously thought she meant about magic, because he went  
“That reminds me,” and pulled a book out of his jacket.  
“Hagrid told me you wanted a copy.” Sirius explained, and handed her Curses and Counter-Curses. She happily accepted the book, and opened it up. “Thank you. I’ll return it before school— “  
“No need.” He assured her, “I’ve had it for awhile, and you’ll have more use for it at school. You haven’t been doing any at the Dursleys’, have you?”  
“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “I happen to be very good at listening to instructions.” She boasted. Following instructions is what minimized time being locked in her cupboard. At least, when she didn’t accidently do magic.  
“You know,” Sirius began, in what was a tone that made Siria feel she didn’t at all know what he was about to say, “I was hoping, with you going to school that, maybe, if you wanted to, in the summer, or Christmas or Easter, if I’m not away, if you’d…”  
He couldn’t possibly be asking what she was hearing. What Siria was hearing was that Sirius wanted her to come live with him, even if it was just for school holidays or part of summer. She stopped swinging higher. If he did ask, what she was hoping he was asking, she wanted to hear it well and right. Her chest felt like it was going to explode with joy. The feeling was exciting, but painful because she could just be getting her hopes up. However, she could be putting her hopes right where they ought to be. Sirius took a deep, long breath, much like she did when ripping off a bandage.  
“Would you like to stay with me?”  
“YES!” Siria exclaimed. She leapt from her swing and threw her arms him, accidently hitting him on the back with Curses and Counter-Curses. “Can I come this summer?”  
“Like tomorrow?” He asked her, standing to his feet, which forced her to let go.  
“I could come tomorrow! I could have everything packed in the trunk, and go!” She told him.  
“I— I just have to check one thing.” He told her, and took a few steps away. “I will write you a reply, if I can bring you home tomorrow, and I’ll come by to get you. We’ll be as Dursley as possible, and I’ll come by car.”  
Siria was actually bouncing with excitement. She’d get back and pack, and write to Hagrid immediately. A wizard’s house! Snuffles’s house! Her godfather’s house! Three whole weeks, she might get to learn magic, and hear her stories about her parents. This, to her, may even be better than going to Hogwarts. To the excitement and dismay of both Sirius and Siria, they parted, but with hope of being reunited for the rest of summer.  
Dudley’s bellowing cries could be heard from the end of Privet Drive. Meaty hands pounded on the table in a tantrum about his tail. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia assured him they’d have it taken care of. Ickle-Diddykins wouldn’t be sent to Smeltings with a tail. No one noticed her walk in, or heard the bottom step creak under the extra something in her step.  
Three weeks with Sirius. She’d get to see all sorts of magic, maybe even magic artifacts. He’s answer all her questions, and she wouldn’t have to be afraid of being locked in a cupboard. It was as if a spring of happiness was hopping around inside her. Her foot bounced uncontrollably as she wrote to Hagrid.  
Dear Hagrid,  
I would love to have tea with you on Friday! If I’ve made any friends, I’ll be sure to bring them along. Hopefully, any more letters will be sent from Sirius’s. He has to check on something, but may be coming to get me tomorow. I hope he’ll be able to show me more magic. Or tell me more about the Wizarding World.  
My Best,  
Siria  
Hedwig was still sleeping, and Siria didn’t want to wake her. Until the snowy owl stirred at sunset, Siria read Curses and Counter-Curses. There were some that made a lot of sense, like “Unjellify” to counter the Jelly-Legs Jinx, and others she wondered if she’d ever remember and hoped none of her classes had ones so long.  
When the owl awoke, Siria spent a moment petting her. She explained to Hedwig, “When you come home, after giving Hagrid his letter, I might be at Sirius’s. Will you be able to find me?” Hedwig nipped Siria’s hand, affectionately. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” Siria smiled. “Be safe.” She told the snowy owl, and opened the window. Hedwig took off into the clear night sky. The air was cool and crisp. For a moment, Siria sat by the window. Being able to go to Hogwarts and maybe Sirius’s felt like being set free. Not only had the letter for Hogwarts been enough to get her out of her cupboard under the stairs, she was getting away from the Dursleys.  
“Girl!” Uncle Vernon’s bellowing voice cut through the silence of the night. She nearly fell from her spot against the window. Siria clambered down stairs, calling “Coming!” What had she done? What could she possibly have done?  
Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were waiting in the living room, a parchment letter in his hand. He stood by the boarded up fireplace, looking like he was going to burst into flames. His purple face swollen with what she was sure was rage. Siria stood at the edge of the room, her back and head as straight as she could get them, and hands out in front of her. Her bright, green almond eyes staring into his bulging ones. “You called?” she asked in the most statemently voice she could.  
“What is this?” Uncle Vernon asked, holding out a piece of yellowish parchment, which was quite obviously a letter.  
“Oh, Uncle Vernon,” Siria began, very sympathetically, “Before there were telephones and computers, people communicated with things called ‘letters’, and— “ Uncle Vernon, boiled over  
“I know what a letter is!” He stammered. He slammed a meaty fist onto the fireplace mantle. “Your Godfather would like you for rest of summer.”  
“Godfather?” She asked, innocently. “But how could I have a Godfather? You say that you only took me in because no one else would.”  
Uncle Vernon threw the letter down. It slid across the floor, and near her. Keeping herself facing her uncle, Siria moved only her eyes to read what she could of the letter. She had expected it to be from Sirius, but it was someone else’s handwriting. The very fine, emerald writing, or what she could read of it, said that, if the Dursleys would agree, she would leave Privet Drive tomorrow, to return once a year, on the first week of summer, and return to Sirius’s. Whoever the letter writer was seemed sure that this would keep her safe because “Siria need only be welcomed into the home of her mother’s blood, and able to call it a ‘home’ until her seventeenth birthday.” As she was going to Hogwarts, they clearly hadn’t beat the magic out of her. Surely, the Dursleys couldn’t want to keep her— not with how they acted.  
“ — ME?” Shouted Uncle Vernon. The first half of his sentence connected in her head “do you hear me?” She’d been so engrossed in trying to read the letter, she hadn’t noticed his angry outburst turned into thunderous roars of outrage.  
“I don’t much care about coming back to Privet Drive, but, it’d be a real waste of all the money you’ve spent, to not welcome me back for a week and have me get killed by Voldemort or something.” Siria told him. Her almond eyes were so fixed on Uncle Vernon that she hadn’t seen Aunt Petunia flinch at the name. “I mean, if I die, after ten painful years of ‘throwing money away’ to raise me, that’d be a real waste.”  
“One week.” Aunt Petunia’s shuddering whisper spoke. Uncle Vernon looked like he could continue yelling awhile longer, but he straightened up.  
“You leave tomorrow.” Aunt Petunia looked squarely at the floor.  
“Brilliant!” Siria smiled. She picked up the thrown letter, folded it up, and extended it to Uncle Vernon. “You dropped this.” She told him. He said nothing, but snatched the letter from her hands.  
Head as high as she could hold it, Siria marched from the room. Creaking upstairs told her Dudley had just ran into his room. Good, now he’d know too. She would call this “home,” for a week a year if it meant the whole rest of her life was magical and fantastic. Siria returned to her room and made sure she was all packed. Next year, she’d probably be back to the cupboard with the spiders for a week, but that dark and lonely cupboard couldn’t dampen her spirits.  
On her Moony & Padfoot blanket, she laid herself out with Magical Theory and read the book well into the night. Even with her watch, Siria couldn’t tell when she’d fallen asleep. It wasn’t until sometime after midnight, she’d fallen asleep on her book, and woke early. Only the smallest rays of light were coming through her open window. She watched the sunrise.  
A sandy tone colored the sky, and slowly illuminated Privet Drive. Mrs. Next Door came out and collected her paper. Mr. Street Corner took his dog for a run, and didn’t return until the sun had full lit the street. Grey and fluffy bits of cloud spotted the blue of the sky. Even if it poured, today would be the best day ever. Any moment now, Sirius would move from 5 o’clock to six, and she’d be ready to go.  
Growling in her stomach pulled her away from the window. Aunt Petunia was in the kitchen. “Mind the bacon” she told Siria. They stood in silence, while Siria watched the bacon and Aunt Petunia scrambled the eggs. Aunt Petunia’s long neck seemed even thinner than usual, and she looked like she was picking a peppercorn out of her teeth. “Ahem,” she cleared her throat, but the booming steps of her massive son waddling into the room seemed to clear her cough.  
While they were clearing away plates, there was a knock on the door. Siria jolted up, but Uncle Vernon stormed to the door before her. A perfectly Muggle looking handsome man stood with a firm look on his face. Sirius looked like a CEO. He had a very fine three-button jacket with grey accents, and wore a light navy button shirt beneath it with matching navy and grey striped tie. His hair had been pulled back into a firm ponytail at the base of his neck. From his posture to his clothes, every bit of Sirius was the picture of elegance. Siria beamed at him with pride— this was her godfather.  
“I’ll go get my trunk.” She told him.  
“Nonsense, I’ll collect it.” He assured her, completely ignoring Uncle Vernon. Sirius stepped in, and she led him to her room. He lifted her trunk with much more ease than she had. “Where’s the quilt?” He asked, not seeing it on the bed.  
“I loaded it in first thing when I got up’’ She told him, “Well, second thing.” She admitted. They went down to the door, where the Dursleys were waiting.  
Dudley was cowering in the corner, behind his mother and father, his back pressed to the wall. Aunt Petunia appeared to have swallowed a lemon, with how much her lips were pressed together in a bitter expression. Uncle Vernon glowered at them.  
“I could fix that,” Sirius told them, with a small gesture to Dudley. He whimpered and pressed himself into the corner.  
“No more magic in my household!” Uncle Vernon growled.  
“Very well then. See you next year.” Sirius told them, and pulled her trunk through the door.  
“See you next year,” Siria echoed to them. The Dursleys said nothing, and Uncle Vernon slammed the door behind them.  
“Jolly bunch” Sirius joked. Siria smiled, weakly. Sure, she didn’t expect a pleasant good-bye, but they should have at least been cordial to Sirius. He could turn them into toads, if he wanted. He wouldn’t, of course, but he could, and they didn’t know he wouldn’t.  
“Classic” Siria told him, taking in the very flash red coloured Austin Healey Sprite. “But will my trunk even fit?” She asked. He smiled at her and popped the car’s trunk. “Ah” was all she could say. Of course it would fit if you magically expanded the trunk. She felt a little silly for having asked. Sirius loaded her trunk in, and settled into the car. With springs of joy still rocketing inside her, she took one last look at Privet Drive. Siria didn’t fully know what was in store where she was headed, but it had to be better than what she was leaving behind.  
After an hour or so of light chatter, Sirius parked. “I’m Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.” He lived in what seemed to be the longest, connected string of townhouses she’d seen out of a book. There were broken windows, some with bars on them, and a healthy layer of grime in the grout. “It’s better inside” he assured himself more than her. However, Siria was delighted to know there was a piece of magic in London other people could see, even if they couldn’t see the magic of it.  
Number Twelve Grimmauld Place appeared perfectly non-magical, on the outside. Upon stepping in, it was just as normal. Freshly sponge painted golden and brown walls welcomed her into the entrance hall. To their left was a very formal dining room with a thick, polished wooden table. There was a narrow hallway, which led to the Black Family library. Straight ahead were the stairs  
Downstairs was the kitchen and a casual dining room. Upstairs, on the first floor was a bedroom and high ceilinged drawing room. The second floor just, a bedroom. Two bedrooms a piece on the third and fourth floor, and a toilet on all but the ground floor. How the Dursleys would have loved to afford a place like this. Their four bedroom house looked like Siria’s cupboard compared to Grimmauld Place.  
“Now,” Sirius closed the door behind them and withdrew his hand, “Who’s ready for some magic?” Siria clapped her hands together in excitement. She was absolutely ready to see some magic. He pointed his wand at her trunk, then stopped. “Did you want to try?” He asked.  
“I thought I couldn’t do magic outside school.”  
“Well” his head teetered from side-to-side, “You’re not supposed to, but, as long as I’m here, they’ll think any magic is me or Kreacher.”  
“I’d love to!” She exclaimed, and popped the trunk open. “Who’s Kreacher?” Siria asked as she withdrew her wand.  
“My house elf.” He said in the way someone says “it’s a word problem.”  
“Okay, so, the spell is ‘Locomotor’ then ‘trunk’.” He stood behind her, and took a steady, strong position. She mimicked his position, both legs shoulder width apart. “You’ll point your wand at it, like so” and made the same quick, forceful jab at the trunk. She mirrored his action, thinking over and over “Locomotor trunk” in her mind. “Ready?” He asked. A deep, lung filling, chest raising breath filled her, and she nodded.  
Feet firmly positioned, wand ready, she exhaled. In a quick step forward and jab, Siria summoned “Locomotor Trunk!” Her trunk wobbled a few inches off the ground, and waited for her.  
“Brilliant!” Sirius applauded. “Now,” he placed a hand behind her shoulders, “your room is on the first floor, so just think of the trunk moving forward, and we’ll walk behind it.” He instructed. Slower than usual, taking about three steps a breath, Siria walked toward the stairs. Up them, they went, Sirius following right behind her, his wand ready to catch her trunk, if she slipped up.  
“Right through there,” he pointed his wand at the left door, and it swung open. She nodded, but didn’t speak or look away from her trunk. This was her first spell, she was going to get it right. “How— “ she began, but no sooner did she think of the trunk lowering, it eased onto the bedroom floor. “What else can I move?” She asked, and turned to see Sirius waiting in the door frame.  
“You know,” she told him, “if you keep creasing your brow like that, you’ll get wrinkles.”  
“Do I do that often?” He asked, rubbing his forehead, like it’d rub the creases away. She smiled at him, and looked to the room. It had been recently painted with the same sponge technique of the entry, but of four different mixes. The wall with the door was scarlet and gold; the wall to the left of the door was yellow and black, its opposite was blue and bronze, and the back wall was green and silver. Its ceiling had all the colors seamlessly mesh together beneath the starry chandelier, which had to be enchanted. Siria was convinced that tiny specks of light were actually falling, like bits of stardust, from the chandelier.  
There was a full sized bed, with beautifully dyed, cotton sheets that looked like a cotton candy sunset. Two of the fluffiest pillows she’d ever seen were at the head of the bed. At the foot of the bed was a pastel yellow desk, with an orange cushioned chair.  
On the back wall was a low bookshelf that scaled across the wall. It was at just the right height for her to hop up and sit on it. The bookshelf was almost completely full of books. Carved silver letters decorated the artic blue painted shelves. “School” was the only section not stuffed. The other sections were “Muggle,” “Fiction,” and “Misc.” Above the bookshelf, were countless photos of smiling people, waving at her.  
Beside the door, on the blue and bronze wall, was a tall, amethyst painted gentleman’s chest dresser. The knobs on the dresser’s five drawers were sets: two eagles, two lions, two serpents, two badgers, and two crests. Her room was perfectly Hogwarts and magical themed. There was even a circular rug with a large, black, wolf like dog howling placed beneath the starry chandelier. She wanted to joke “What if I don’t like Hogwarts?” but how could she possibly tease him?  
Words failed her. Siria placed her wand down, and wrapped her arms around Sirius’s middle. Through his suit jacket, she felt the thundering of his heart, and that said everything. At that moment, Siria would gladly relive through every moment with the Dursleys, if it meant she’d have this one: the moment she learned what it was like to be loved. She didn’t need the big, decorated room, or the watch, or the mp3 player, or clothes, or sewing kit, or blanket; what made her heart overflow was all the thought behind every piece, all the time and attention to detail, how he waited in the doorway to watch her take it in, how Sirius was every bit excited to have her here as she was to be here.  
Sirius returned the hug by pulling Siria closer. He held her like she was the most important thing in the world. Never in her life could Siria remember being hugged— let alone behind hugged like this, as if by a parent. It was warm and filled her with security. Her worries about not fitting in with the wizarding world seemed to disappear. If Sirius was there, if he cared for her this much, she knew she would be fine, maybe even more than fine.  
Vibrating from Sirius’s jacket breast pocket broken the hug and silence. “I’m so sorry. I have to take this call, but will be right back!” He assured her, and stepped away. She listened from the doorframe. Siria leaned against it, as he had. His cool voice told the person on the other end, “No, no, no. I already told you that today was no good. Remus and you have everything.” Sirius told them. “You cannot stop by.” He walked so elegantly up the stairs that not a single step creaked. “No. I— I have Siria.”  
At the sound of her name, she strayed from the doorway. “If my notes are illegible, how have you managed so far?” He asked the person on the other end. “I only get her for the rest of summer— “ he sighed. It sounded as though the voice on the other end cut him off. Sirius hurried back to Siria, and placed a hand over the mouth of his phone. “I have to do just a pinch of work” he told her, “but then I’m yours the rest of the summer, and we’ll do whatever you want.”  
Whoever was on the line was a woman, who told him “You spoil her too much.” Siria giggled quietly, and nodded at him. “It’s a promise” he told her, then slid his hand from the mouth of his phone, not that it’d stopped the woman from hearing. “Fine.” He told the woman on the phone. “Lucky for you, my Goddaughter happens to be very gracious young woman.” The woman on the phone chortled, but told him she’d be there and gone before dinner.  
“Who was that?” Siria asked, and smirked, “your girlfriend?” she teased.  
“You wish!” He lifted her over his shoulder and tickled her. She flailed her arms weakly against his back as she fought the laughter from being tickled. No one had ever tickled her before. The kids in her classes had all laughed, but being tickled was complicated. Siria wanted to curl into a ball to make it stop, but also enjoyed it. Her sides tensed up and loosened while he wiped his fingers along her ribs. She laughed, but also didn’t think it was funny. Sirius placed her on the floor, and she glowered at him.  
“I used to loved being tickled.” He confessed. She was breathless, and still undecided on it.  
“You’re crazy” she gasped. He shrugged, and smirked at her. “Let’s see if you still like it, you old man!” She shouted and dived her fingers to his side.  
“Old?” He cried, falling to his knees. “I’m only thirty-one!” He tried to cover his ribs with his elbows, but she could reach more than he covered. Tickling, unlike being tickled, was decidedly fun. She stopped and rested her hands on her hips. “Thirty anything is old. I’m eleven!” She reminded him. Sirius smiled at her,  
“Alright, Ms. Eleven, what would you like to do?” Sirius asked.  
“Can we practice magic until your NOT girlfriend comes?”  
“Magic? What kind of magic?” He asked, but raised to his feet and opened the furthest door from the stairs.  
The Black Family Drawing room had very clearly been turned into what Siria figured was a dueling room. A History of Magic had a lot about dueling, all of which had sounded both more safe and more dangerous than sword dueling. Smooth, glossy, black covered the room from bottom to high ceilinged top. Muggle looking lights seemed to be built into a strip on the wall that ran all around the room, just above the top of the door.  
“How about the kind that lets you turn into Snuffles?” She asked “Transfiguration, right?”  
“I tell you what, after you can turn a beetle into a button, we’ll take baby steps to that.” He told her.  
“What are you best at?”  
“Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts.” He boasted.  
“Okay.” She nodded, “So, should I start turning beetles into buttons, or defending?”  
“Defending. Stay here,” He walked through the room. Sirius kept making the same “S” like shape with his wand, and turning parts of the room into what looked like rubber. By the time he made it across, they looked like they were in a bounce house.  
“You’ll want to take the position from earlier.” He told her. Sirius stood across the room, his feet about shoulder width apart. With his arm raised, and the opposite foot a little back. Siria mirrored his position, but he held it better. Sirius looked both ready to stand his ground and dodge. Butterflies erupted in her stomach. She was going to defend, hopefully.  
“This a shield charm,” Sirius told her, and drew a straight line with his wand. Nothing seemed to be there. “Its incantation is ‘Protego’,”  
“Pro-TAY-goh” she nodded.  
“You need to motion your hand like this” and he drew another vertical line.  
Siria took up the hand motion, and drew vertical line after vertical line. All the while she muttered “Pro-TAY-goh,” but didn’t feel any magic. There had been something different about “Locomotor.” Though she continued, Siria didn’t feel any different. She paused.  
“Sirius, what’s supposed to happen?” she asked.  
“Well, I’m going to fire a spell at you and— “  
“What?” She asked, freezing in the middle of a vertical line. He raised his hands, wand held loosely between his thumb and index finger.  
“Nothing harmful. It’d be like the Jelly-Leg Jinx or— “  
“Can’t you show me what it looks like when it works first?” She asked.  
“Do you know any?”  
Ear-to-ear she smirked, and took up dueling position. He followed, and raised his wand. As she drew the complicated horseshoe like movement with a circle at the loop, of her spell, Sirius drew the single, vertical line.  
“Pretego!” Sirius called while Siria shouted “Mimble Wimble!” Blue light shot off from an invisible shield before him. She threw herself onto the floor to stop the blue light returning to her.  
Heart racing, Siria jumped back to her feet, and took position again. Sirius asked “Ready?”  
“I want to try one more!” She told him. He nodded. While Sirius drew the single line, Siria drew what looked kind of like a backwards and open cursive “a”. This time, she shouted “Titillando!” and a single ribbon of purple fired from her wand. At the head of the ribbon was a small, purple hand. Although Sirius didn’t say anything, the purple light bounce back at her. She leapt out of the way.  
“Where did you even learn those?” He asked her.  
“The book you lent me.” She told him. He nodded his head to the side.  
“Right. And it’s TITI-lan-doh.” She broke into a small fit of giggles, which she tried to hide behind her hand. He smirked at her, “You really ought to try the Tickling Charm, though” He instructed. “The motion is a bit longer, but the charm works better.”  
They went on to practice the hand movement and incantations of Curses and Counter-Curses and the Shield Charm for hours. Siria had failed to block anything, but had dodged most of what Sirius reflected back at her with the shield. Their practice was stopped when the doorbell rang and, Siria, whose attention snapped to the door, didn’t dodge her rebounded curse. In a cool rush of wind, her tongue shot to the roof of her mouth.  
“Once it passes, come on down. You may have a bit of a stutter, but…” Sirius laughed, “I tried to warn you.” He reminded her. Siria was looking at him in complete disbelief. For as much as she tried to say anything, her tongue seemed glued to the roof of her mouth. “Chloe will think the stutter is cute.” He assured her from the doorway.  
“Coming in!” A woman’s voice called from downstairs. If she had been able to, Siria’s jaw would have dropped.  
“She has a key.” He told her. Siria’s raised eyebrow said it all. “She’s my co-worker!” He insisted, but ran before she could do more.  
Wand in hand, Siria plopped onto the rubbery floor. Staring at the tip of her wand, she regretted casting “Mimble Wimble.” The tip of the holly wand made no reply. Sirius had managed to cast the shield, and open doors without saying anything. She wondered if she could do the same. Siria returned to the room with her trunk, and pulled out an empty spool from one of her sewing kits. She returned to the drawing room, placed it before her, and thought, with all her might “Locomotor Spool” with the quick jab Sirius had showed her.  
Half an hour she attempted “Locomotor spool” before Sirius came for her. “What are you doing?” He asked.  
“T— try— ing— Loc— co— mo— tor!” She stammered.  
“It’s still pretty bad” He sighed, “that’s good though. Not like that!” he jumped. “I’m just glad to see you have knack for it. You’ll wipe the floor with all the boys in your year.” He winked.  
“I imagine you’re hungry. Chloe has insisted on meeting you, and has refused to leave until she does. She wants to take us to lunch. You will need to leave your wand in your room though; she’s a Muggle.” Sirius informed her, “She’s not my girlfriend.” He added. Siria was giving him a look that said she had her suspicions otherwise, but she complied and returned her wand to her room.  
With a hop in her step, Siria took Sirius’s arm and bounced down the stairs. Chloe stood in the doorway, with a massive binder under her arm. Her hair was a vibrant blue at the roots and bleed perfectly into an equally vibrant purple at the tips. Chloe wore smooth black slacks with a v-cut sleeveless blouse of the same, lustrous material. She wore a grey blazer that matched Sirius’s eyes, and polished, heeled ankle boots. When Chloe turned to face them, Siria saw her left ear was full of piercings, but she only had one hanging blue chain in her right ear.  
“And you must be Siria!” Chloe exclaimed. Siria took a half step behind Sirius. Why on earth would a Muggle be so excited to see her? “Aww!” Chloe adored, “cute as a button and shy too!” She reached out her glossy midnight blue nails and rubbed Siria’s head. “With how much he spoils you, I thought you’d be a pompous little brat, like him” Chloe confessed. “Now, personally, I want pizza, but, this guy,” and Chloe jabbed a finger at Sirius, “says we should go for raw fish!”  
“It’s called sushi!” Sirius exclaimed over Siria’s stammer of “gr— oss!”  
“Pizza it is!” Chloe clapped. She ushered them both outside. Lunch with Chloe was unlike any lunch Siria had ever had. Chloe seemed perfectly capable of carrying the conversation without Sirius or Siria. She would, however, occasionally stop mid-sentence, slam the massive binder on the counter, flip to a page, ask Sirius a question about it, then close the binder, and continue as if she hadn’t done so.  
Thankfully, when they’d returned to Grimmauld Place, Siria’s stammer had finally left her. Chloe gave Siria a quick, one-armed hug, and told Sirius “Try not to spoil the poor dear to death, and pick up your phone!” before helping herself to an umbrella from the umbrella stand and leaving.  
“Tornado, if ever there was one.” Sirius told her. He sounded exhausted. “Ready for a nap?” He asked her. Siria looked at him with her bright eyes.  
“Only old people take naps.” She told him. He shrugged, but yawned and stretched.  
“Explore away,” he patted her on the head, “Call if you need me, but I need a nap after that.”  
Siria watched her Godfather drag his feet up the stairs at the end of the entryway. His footsteps seemed to be the only sound in the house. As they grew more distant, another sound became more prominent. Like the hissing of a snake, something was calling her. Her feet lead her downstairs, past the kitchen, and to a door. It was very much like the door of her own cupboard, but she hadn’t really noticed it.  
The cupboard was mostly filled with a boiler, but had about a foot of space under it. There was a nest of stained and hole-riddled rags and blankets. Pictures with broken frames were huddled in the far corner from the door. The picture frame of a heavy lidded woman had been taped together. Hissing whispers drew her to the back of the corner though... it was in here, but it wasn’t in the blankets or with the photos. Something stirred in her stomach, and Siria found herself crawling in. Her hand moved on its own accord to the back left corner. Buried deep in a stash of things, was a large, oval something. The something turned out to be a golden locket, the size of her palm. Green jewels formed a snakish “S”.  
Immediately, Siria was taken to it. The locket had called to her, summoned her to it. It wanted her to have it, to wear it. She placed the chain around her neck, and the heavy locket weighed her whole body down. With all her might, she wrenched herself from the cupboard. All the lights seemed dimmer. Everything seemed darker and colder. “S— Sirius?” her voice sounded so distant, like it was coming from someone else, someone very far away. It was quiet and filtered. Darkness was pulling in around her. She had to get to Sirius. She had to get away from the cold, dark kitchen. Siria fell to the floor. Her eyes, too heavy to stay open, closed. The silence of the house hung on her.

Head spinning, Siria sat up. She was in the bed, under the cotton candy sunset blanket. All the lights were on, and she noticed that, in additional to the starry chandelier, there were long Muggle lights, built into the wall at the same height as the ones in the drawing room. There was so much contrast from here and kitchen, she felt much lighter. Sitting beside her, sleeping on the orange cushioned desk chair, was Sirius Black. Her watch told her it was just after three in the morning. Hissing told her, the locket was on her desk.  
There, on her desk, was an old, tattered briefcase. Though muffled, Siria heard the unmistakable hissing of the locket. She felt something pull inside her, at her heart. Harsh, sharp tugs that told her to go to the case. It made her shudder. Siria took hold of Sirius’s closest hand. His hand was cold clammy. He’d probably been waiting by her side since he found her. She tried to slide off the bed to pull the blanket up and put it on him, but, upon trying to stand, Siria found her legs too weak to hold her. In a loud clatter, she fell to the floor and woke Sirius.  
He leapt to his feet, wand whipped out. “Sorry” she whispered. Sirius, however, leapt over her bed and lifted her up.  
“Are you alright?” He asked, sitting her on the bed. She looked to the briefcase, then to him.  
“I don’t know.” She told him. Remembering the last feeling she had before waking up, her heart hammered in her chest. “I think there’s something wrong with your locket.” She told him. “I— I found it in a cupboard, but…” she clenched the fabric of her shirt, above her hammering heart, “but I don’t know how I got there.”  
“It’s okay.” He told her, “You’re okay. The locket will be taken care of, and you’ll never need to see it again.”  
“Are you hungry?” He asked, but called over his shoulder for “Kreacher!”  
Siria shook her head, which made it spin again. “No. I’m fine.” She tried to convince him as much as herself. There was a crack and, behind Sirius a small bluish grey creature appeared. It had a long, drooping nose, large batty ears, and looked like it was wearing a filthy rag around his waist. If this was “Kreacher” then this was also a “house elf.” Siria had pictured a cute, little creature with more handsome features. Kreacher had a hunch in his back, and didn’t at all look happy to be there, or house elves didn’t look happy.  
After Sirius had Kreacher bring Siria a draught and some porridge. He made sure she ate every bite before having her drink the draught. If she hadn’t been so embarrassed about having someone fuss over her, she would have been more expressive of her thanks. Mostly though, once she had the drink, she was tired. Siria fell back onto her pillow. Her eyelids were too heavy to keep open. This was a very different feeling of falling asleep than before. She felt calm and warm.


	6. The Journey from Platform 9 ¾

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siria's trip from Number 12 Grimmauld Place to Hogwarts

**The Journey from Platform 9 ¾**   


Uneventful as the rest of her time at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was, Siria was thankful for it. Hedwig returned to her on the second day. Siria and Sirius practiced everyday, for hours on end. They started right after breakfast, broke for snacks twice a day, broke for lunch, and ended before dinner. Every night, he’d tell her stories about all the times he and James had avoided getting into trouble, and how well James played Quidditch. Sirius followed after her all over the house, as Snuffles had followed her when she wandered the Dursley’s neighborhood. Kreacher had taken to calling them in his croakiest bullfrog sounding voice for meals, but said almost nothing to Siria herself.  
Finally, it was their last night together. “Can’t you expand it?” Siria asked, sitting on the trunk with Kreacher, while Sirius pushed with all this might. Through gritted teeth, and with much strain, Sirius grunted “No” in reply. He sighed, and gave up pushing. “You’ll have to leave some things behind. How did you get it closed at the Dursley’s?” He asked. She tried not to look at the bookshelf, but couldn’t help her eyes from wandering. He followed her line of sight and gave a huge sigh. “The books will be here next year.” He assured her.  
“But what if I need them this year?” She asked.  
“Siria, no one could read all those books with the homework you’ll have. If you really need one, I’ll send it to you.” He insisted. Sirius would not let her win on this, and opened her trunk.  
After putting her school things, and only her school things, back into the trunk, it closed with ease. He then loaded in some of the clothes from the amethyst gentleman’s chest dresser. Siria beamed at him,  
“You know, with all that extra room…” she began,  
“One!” Sirius held up one single finger, “you may bring one.” There was no need to debate, they’d finished with Curses and Counter-Curses in her first week. She picked up Jinxes and Counter-Jinxes by Professor Jessie Jocarius. “Are you sure you want that one?” He asked, “It’s got some rather hard ones in it.”  
“But you make them look easy.” She replied,  
“That’s because I do the ones I do best. You don’t see me trying the Ebublio Jinx, do you?”  
“Show off.” She called him, but put the book in her trunk. “I’ll master it this year, and show you how it’s done.”  
He ruffled her messy black hair, which hadn’t been in a braid since her second day. Her hair was so inherently messy that neither could tell he’d messed with it at all. They brushed their teeth, and he tucked her into bed.  
“Can I hear a story about my mum tonight?” She asked,  
“What, after three weeks of nothing but James, you finally want to hear about Lily?” He asked.  
“No. You just only ever talk about my dad; sometimes my mum comes in to help you two out of trouble, like when you were nearly cornered by the police men.” She loved hearing about her dad. He’d gotten into more trouble than she ever could, and that was just what she’d heard so far. She knew her mum would swoop in to help people, and that she was very pretty and clever, but that was really all.  
“Alright. How about this…” Sirius broke into a time, in their sixth year, when Lily and James, before they started dating, had gotten into a huge fight in the Gryffindor common room. Almost the whole House was there, or tried to be. Until Lily raised her wand and told James to draw. People had clambered out of the common room “faster than you can say ‘Quidditch’.” James tried to tell her he didn’t want to fight, but Lily wasn’t having it after how long they’d been arguing. “He, you know, had proposed they settle it in a duel,” but clearly hadn’t meant it. Lily took it at face value, and they took off.  
Both were excellent at dueling, “but Lily was a pro charmer and too quick witted.” After a few minutes, Lily had James trapped in the Ebublio Jinx, and laughing his head off from her Tickling Charm. She’d been so mad that James would break into random fits of muffled laughter for the rest of the week.  
“What had they argued about?” Siria asked. He patted her head and smiled weakly,  
“Silly kid stuff.” He pecked her on the forehead. “Good night, Siria.”  
“Good night Sirius.”  
They woke up early the next morning. Sirius double checked her trunk before they had breakfast. After breakfast Siria asked if she could Locomotor Trunk her trunk to make it go higher. “Yes, but no magic on the train. Least, you aren’t supposed to, so try to keep it to a minimum.” He instructed. Too soon for either of them, it was time to leave. Sirius drove them to King’s Cross Station, and tried to tell her all the fun she’d have.  
“Can I really not come home for Christmas?” Siria asked.  
“I wish you could, but I’d rather you spend it at Hogwarts with the other kids, than alone with Kreacher.” He confessed. “I’ll be away for work.”  
“What do you do for work?” She asked, for at least the tenth time.  
“Boring stuff.” He waved it off, like always. Was it really that boring? She couldn’t picture him sitting at a desk all day, shouting at people like Uncle Vernon.  
In a snap, her trunk was loaded into a trolley, and they were pulling into the station. Clearly labeled she saw Platform Nine and Platform Ten. Quickly tugging on Sirius’s sleeve, she looked up at him. Her bright green eyes were full of worry. In a voice that was barely a whisper, she asked “What if that happens again?”  
“Go to Dumbledore, the Headmaster, or your Head of House. They’ll know what to do, okay?” He assured her. “Got your ticket?” He asked.  
With still uncertain hands, she pulled an envelope from her jacket pocket. “Platform Nine… and Three Quarters?” Siria asked. Looking at the clock, she saw they arrived later than they were supposed to have. They didn’t have time for misprinted tickets. Hogwarts was waiting for her! She took a step toward the help desk, but Sirius grabbed hold of her hood.  
“It’s alright; it’s alright” he assured her. They walked toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten.  
“Molly?” Sirius called.  
“Sirius!” a healthy, plump woman with flaming red hair wrapped him in a one armed hug. “Oh, so good to see you, dear!” She told him. “Percy, go” Molly ushered. Molly had four boys of varying ages and a girl just younger than Siria, behind her. The young girl was tightly holding her mother’s hand, while each of the boys had a trolley. The first and eldest nodded at his mother, and marched right toward the barrier. She missed where he went because Molly was talking to her.  
“And hello dear, I didn’t know Sirius had a daughter. First year at Hogwarts?” Molly asked, “It’s Ron’s first year too.” She pointed to her shortest son, who was almost as tall as the twins.  
“We ought to be getting through, Molly.” Sirius reminded her.  
(book, Fred & George’s little exchange, everyone getting through the barrier, and the description of the train)  
“I’ll write to you” Sirius promised. He hoisted her trunk onto the train.  
“I know.” She told him. “Now go. Chloe told you to answer your phone, and it’s been ringing all day.”  
“Will you be alright?” He asked.  
“Sirius, I’m going to Hogwarts. You and Hagrid have both said there’s no safer place.” She reminded him. He nodded, the same usual crease forming on his forehead. “I won’t do anything you wouldn’t.” She joked.  
“Siria” he told her, in a very clear voice, “I’ll see you soon.”  
“I’ll see you soon.” She hugged him, and rolled her trunk down the train.  
(book, description of inside to her trying to get her trunk up)  
Siria grabbed, shifted, dropped, and fell over her truck. She sighed and laid over it, on the floor of the compartment.   
“Want a hand?” One of the red haired twins from before asked.  
“Oh?” Siria jumped to her feet, “Yes. Please!”  
“Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!”  
With the twins’ help, her trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.  
“Thank you” she smiled and wiped the sweat from her forehead.  
“What’s that?” said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Siria’s lightning scar,  
“Blimey,” said the other twin. “Are you—?”  
“She is,” said the first twin. “Aren’t you?” he added to Siria.  
“Who?” she asked  
“Siria Potter!” they chorused.  
“Oh!” she nodded and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “I mean yes!” she shook her head and felt her cheeks flush. The two boys gawked at her, and she pulled her chin toward her chest. To her relief, “Fred? George? Are you there?” came floating through the train. They shouted back to it “Coming, Mum,” but looked at Siria again before they left.  
Siria leaned against the corner of the compartment and watched the red-haired family. The only thing Aunt Petunia had ever said about Siria’s mother was that she had red hair, and that Siria had her eyes. She combed her messy black hair with her fingers, and wondered how she’d look with hair like them.  
(book, “Are you a Prefect, Percy?” exchange)  
“Hey, Mum, guess what? Guess who’s on the train?”  
Siria pressed herself against the seat, and away from the window.  
“You know that black haired girl who went on after us? Know who she is?”  
“Who?”  
“Siria Potter!”  
(book: Mrs. Weasley tells them not to ogle at her, like she’s not an animal at the zoo)  
“Nevermind that, do you think she remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?”  
Their mother suddenly became very stern.  
“I forbid you ask her! Don’t you dare! As if she needs reminding on the first day at school.”  
“All right, keep your hair on.”  
A whistle sounded, and the boys were rushed onto the train. Their younger sister cried, but one of the twins told her not to, and they’d send her owls. “We’ll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat” the other added. His mother snapped, and he laughed “Only joking, Mum.” Though the train began to move, Siria could see their sister didn’t stop waving. She ran after the train, half laughing, half crying, and waved until she disappeared from view. Siria smiled at them. Though she didn’t fully know what was in store where she was going, it was better than the Privet Drive she’d left behind.  
The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest redheaded boy came in. He pointed to the seat opposite of her “Anyone sitting there? Everywhere else is full.” She shook her head, and he sat down. He glanced at her, but quickly pretended to look out the window. There was a spot of something black on his nose, and she opened her mouth to tell him, but the door was opened again.  
It was the twins. “Hey, Ron. Listen, we’re going down the middle of the train— Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula down there.” Even as someone who grew up in a cupboard of spiders, the idea of giant one made Siria shiver.  
“Right,” mumbled Ron. He looked a little pale.  
“Siria,” said the other twin, “did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother.” He pointed to each of them in turn. “Did you want to see the tarantula?”  
Ron and Siria both shook their heads.  
“Thanks though.” she told them.  
“See you later then.” They slid the door shut, and Ron blurted  
“Are you really Siria Potter?” She nodded. “Oh— well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George’s jokes… have you really got - you know…” he pointed at her forehead. She pulled her bangs up, and Ron stared. He leaned toward her a bit, and she dropped her bangs back down. Ron sighed loudly and leaned against his seat. “So that’s where You-Know-Who-?”  
“Yes.” She confirmed. “I don’t remember much from it,” she added. “Just a flash of green light.”   
“Wow!” He exclaimed.  
Ron and Siria went into a series of questions about the other; he was as interested about life with Muggles as she was about him in a family full of wizards, and with five older brothers and a younger sister. He had “Bill’s old robe, Charlie’s old wand, Percy’s old books. Percy got a new owl for being made prefect, and I wanted one too, but they couldn’t af— “ his ears turned red, and he stopped talking.  
Siria didn’t see anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl. She told Ron about not being able to afford anything until Hagrid and Sirius showed up and told her she was a witch. “Oh, all hand-me-downs I’d gotten from my cousin, Dudley, I had to get really good at sewing. Can you imagine being sent to school in your mum’s old clothes, it was like that!” Siria told him.  
While they talked, the train carried them out of London. They were speed past fields of animals, and chatted all the while. Ron told her about how much he loved Quidditch and about his team, the Chudley Cannons. He’d gotten so spirited, he’d stood up, and started enacting one of his favorite moments when their Seeker almost caught the Snitch. Ron sat down and Siria noticed he still had the black smudge on his nose.  
“How’d you get that?” She asked, rubbing the spot of her nose to mirror where it was on him. Ron rubbed his long nose with one of his big hands.  
“Dunno.” He grumled. Though not meaning to, Siria had taken the wind from his sails.  
(Book: half past twelve, the trolley comes by, and she gets several sweets. Ron pulls out his corned beef sandwich, but Siria ends of sharing her food with him.)  
“Can you do magic with a Licorice Wand?” Siria asked. Ron looked uncertain,  
“I reckon you could, if you were really good.” He thought. They each took a Licorice Wand, and held it like a real wand.  
“Best to try an easy spell…” she murmured. “Suppose ‘Lumos’ is easy, yeah?”  
“Dunno.” Ron confessed, “Mum doesn’t let us use magic in the house.”  
“That’s fair. You know how magic stuff just happens sometimes? Well, the Dursleys used to throw a huge fit when I accidentally did any.” She empathized with Ron, but envied him too.  
“That’s terrible!” He exclaimed. Ron stood up and gave the Licorice Wand a good flick. “I’d like to meet those Muggles, teach them a lesson!” He boasted. Siria laughed,  
“Thank you.”  
“Are those Chocolate Frogs?” He asked. Her eyes widened,  
“Please tell me they’re just enchanted,” Siria shuddered at the thought of a real frog dipped in chocolate.  
“Yeah!”  
“Thank goodness!” She let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. “Help yourself!” She told him. Ron unwrapped the Chocolate Frog, but seemed more interested in a small card the frog sat on.  
“Another Dumbledore.” He sighed, but eyed the pile. Siria tossed him another frog. “Thanks. Do you want it?” He asked and passed her the card.  
(Book: description of Dumbledore, and note “[…]and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel.” They bond, a boy missing his toad opens the door and asks if they’ve seen a toad, and continues one. Ron confesses he’d have intentionally lost a toad if he had one.)  
“Do you think we should’ve told him to ask your brother?” Siria asked Ron.  
“Which one?”  
“The Prefect. It’s not rule enforcement, but he’s bound to know magic. He might have been able to summon it, or something.” She noted.  
“Nah,” Ron waved. “It’ll turn up.”  
Siria grabbed another Licorice Wand. She’d forgotten about wanting to know if they could to magic until now. She pulled her wand out of her jacket pocket. “I have to know if I can use the spell before I try it with the candy wand.” She told Ron. Siria held the wand firmly in her hand, but the compartment door slid open again.  
The tearful, toadless boy was back, but with a girl. For as messy and unmanageable as Siria’s hair was, this girl’s brown hair was bushy. She had already changed into her Hogwarts robes. In a bold and bossy sort of voice, which showed her rather large teeth, she asked “Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one.”  
“You should ask a Prefect.” Ron and Siria chorused. The girl wasn’t listening.  
“Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see it, then.” She sat next to Ron, and the toadless boy slid in beside Siria.  
“Alright,” Siria shrugged to Ron, and fixed her grip on the holly wand. “Lumos!”  
Even in the well lit compartment, it was clear that a soft light was radiating from Siria’s wand. Neville and the bushy haired girl seemed rather impressed.  
(Books: Hermione discusses being Muggleborn, getting her letter, learning all the coursebooks by heart, and introduces herself then asks for their names)  
“Ron.” Ron muttered, “Weasley.”  
“Neville Longbottom.” The toadless boy whimpered. They turned to Siria. She was still rather used to being shooed before introducing herself, and found herself blushing. Siria tucked one of many messy and loose strands of hair behind her ear.  
“Siria,” even though she had only spent a month knowing Sirius as her Godfather, she wanted to say “Black,” but he had been very happy to introduce “Siria Potter” to Chloe. It had given her a certain pride in her name that she hadn’t had before. She wasn’t that “strange Potter girl” Dudley’s gang bullied. Not meaning to, she smirked a little, and added “Potter.” Neville’s eyes popped.  
(Book: Hermione and her extra reading, questions about which Hogwarts House they’ll be in, then Hermione and Neville continue to look for his toad. Ron says he hopes he’s in Gryffindor, everyone in his family has been.)  
Siria looked out the window. It had grown rather dark. “You know, I’d bite that Hermione is right and we should change.” She noted.  
“Suppose.” Ron sighed, “I’ll uh, wait outside.” While Ron stepped outside, Siria pulled her new school robes out. Her heart raced. She was really going to Hogwarts. With the robes on, she pulled out a scrunchy and decided to braid her hair, or else at least put it back. There were voices outside, one of them Ron’s.  
There was a clattering, and Siria pulled open the compartment door. Ron, who had pressed himself against the door, fell back. She just managed to catch him, only to step on her robes, and cause them both to land on the compartment floor. Snickering sounds drew Siria’s eyes up.  
Three boys in their new robes were standing in the doorway. Two beefy boys flanked a third, smaller boy, as if they were his bodyguards. The smallest of the boys was the one from Madam Malkin’s robe shop. He dropped his snicker for a smirk, and looked down at Ron and Siria. The two pulled themselves up, and didn’t sit back down.  
“Is it true?” the smaller boy asked. He completely ignored Ron and watched Siria closely. “They’re saying Siria Potter’s in this compartment. It’s you, is it?”  
“Common manners to introduce yourself first, isn’t it?” She snapped in reply. There was something about the three that didn’t sit well. They held themselves like Dudley’s gang, and Siria was rather tired of being bullied.  
“Of course.” He agreed, and, not looking away, waved to each of his bodyguards “this is Crabbe and Goyle.” He extended his hand to Siria, “And I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.”  
Ron gave a slight cough to hide a snigger. Draco Malfoy glared at him. Siria stepped between the two, and forced a smile. “Boys,” she clapped her hands together, “why don’t we all sit down? Have a nice chat.” Siria gestured to her side of the bench, which still had some sweets, “plenty to go around.”  
“Though, we ought to step out first, so Ron can change.” Siria walked right up to Malfoy, and he stepped back. Crabbe and Goyle, not wanting to be stepped on by their charge, backed out of the compartment completely. Siria looked to Ron and mouthed “I’ll try to be nice!” and winked at him as she closed the doors.  
“I’m Siria,” She told one of the bodyguards, and held out her hand. The bigger of them shook it, and grunted what sounded like “Crabbe.” Siria extended her hand to the other, “Siria” she introduced herself to the other bodyguard, who was just barely not as large as the first. His grunt even more muddled, but he had to be Goyle.  
“Now, Malfoy” She stretched her smile. “I’m Siria Potter.” He took her hand much faster than the other boys, but he didn’t let go. Malfoy actually pulled her in a bit and locked eyes with her.  
“You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friend with the wrong sort. I can help you there.” He promised.  
“That’s awfully sweet of you, but I intend to make friends with all sorts of people and families, Malfoy.”  
Though Draco Malfoy and Siria Potter were smiling as they shook the other’s hand, they were glaring too. Each squeezed the other’s hand, as tightly as they could until someone needed to get through, and they let go. Determined to not pay him more mind that she had to, Siria began to comb her fingers through her messy hair.  
Hermione Granger and Neville, toad in hand, came over. She beamed at Siria. “I could braid your hair, if you’d like.” Hermione offered. Malfoy looked outraged.  
“What?” Siria asked him, “Did you want to braid it?” Though he didn’t go red, a pink tinge appeared on his pale cheeks.  
“You ought to be more polite, Potter.” He told her, slowly.  
“Hermione,” Siria looked at the bushy haired girl, “Once Ron clears out, did you want to come in and we can braid each other’s? I have extra scrunchies.” Hermine positive glowed.  
“I’d love to!”  
Ron slid open the compartment, and everyone crammed in. Draco Malfoy sat, a little squished, between Crabbe and Goyle. The other four fit a little snug on the opposite side. Siria slid onto the floor, in front of Hermione, who began braiding her hair. Malfoy and Ron glared at each other. Neville whimpered in the corner closest to the door. Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles. The silence was getting to all of them.  
“Malfoy, you know” Siria began, and looked up into the cold grey eyes of the boy across from her. “Ron plays Quidditch with his brothers.” She prompted. Both boys gave throaty scoffs at the thought of the other playing. “Neville,” Siria continued, “do you play?”  
“Oh, no.” Neville shuddered and shook his head. “I’ve never ridden!”  
“Never ridden?” Ron and Draco echoed in outrage.  
“What do you mean you’ve never ridden?” Ron added.  
“Why not?” Draco continued.  
Unfortunately for Neville, the topic broke the silence. Apparently, with the exception of Siria and Hermione, who had been raised by Muggles, everyone beside Neville had ridden— a lot. Neville had to explain that he was very clumsy. His grandmother wouldn’t let him even touch a broom. Crabbe, Goyle, Malfoy and Ron went on to give Neville every possible tip they could on how to fly.  
“You have to hold your broom like this” Ron insisted, standing with his feet a little apart and holding a roll of parchment like a broom handle. He hand his right hand in front at the top of the roll, and his left at the bottom.  
“No, Weasley.” Draco shook his head. He was holding a Licorice Wand and had his hands similarly placed, but closer together. “Like this!” He showed Neville. As Crabbe and Goyle agreed on every point with Malfoy, Siria wondered if they had ever actually flown a broom.  
Hermione had braided Siria’s hair very nicely. It hadn’t hurt at all, and Siria was only used to it not hurting when she braided it herself. The two girls switched places. “Is this one okay?” Siria asked Hermione. It was a deep red scrunchy with a tiny cartoon dog chasing a ladybug.  
“Oh, that’s so cute!” Hermione told her. “All mine are just plain black or brown.”  
Siria placed the scrunchy on her wrist and began separating Hermione’s bushy brown hair. “Yeah. That’s why I love Moony & Padfoot. There are all these cute little things. I’ve even got some bobby pins from them that— “  
“What are you talking about?” Malfoy’s voice cut in. Clearly, he’d gotten bored of debating the best way to ride a broomstick.  
“Moony & Padfoot.” Siria told him, not looking up from Hermione’s hair.  
“What’s that?” He asked.  
“It’s a Muggle thing.” Siria told him.  
“What’s she know about Muggle things?” Malfoy asked in a sharp tone.  
Siria didn’t much like Malfoy talking to Hermione like she couldn’t hear them. It reminded her of how the Dursleys talked about her, like she was a stupid, nasty thing. Hermione didn’t seem to like it either. She tried to proudly puff herself up a bit.  
“Malfoy, Hermione’s already read all our textbooks. She was telling Ron and I about the spells she’s tried out. She didn’t have a single problem! Isn’t that great?” Siria asked him, not looking up from Hermione’s hair. “Have you tried out any spells?” She asked. Siria wrapped the scrunchy around the end of the braid. Hermione’s hair, though very bushy, was a lot easier to braid than Siria’s very unevenly grown and messy mane.  
“Of course!” Malfoy boasted, but they wouldn’t hear more.  
(books: reach Hogwarts, first years take the boats, and they go across the lake)

Author's End Note:  
On the chance this isn’t obvious: my work is unofficial, has no connection with J.K. Rowling, she has the rights, and should she/her legal team request it, my content will be removed or edited as per their request(s).


	7. The Sorting Hat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About a line of difference

**The Sorting Hat**

Author’s note: I didn’t have much to add to this chapter because it was more things happening to and around her, which is why The Potions Master is being posted today too. 

(book: Professor McGonagall arrives, brings them into a room, tells them to sharpen up, explains the Houses, and steps out of the room) “How do they sort us?” Siria asked. “Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.” Ron told her. Malfoy laughed, “A test?” He asked, “Please— “ but the rest of Malfoy’s sentence was silenced over people screaming. (book: the House ghosts enter, the Sorting, “[...] the third floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a painful death.” Siria Potter, Hermione Granger, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and Fay Dunbar share a room. Siria has a nightmare in which she wears Quirrell's turban, which tells her she has to transfer the Slytherin, and she harder she fights and tells it “No!” the more it weighs her down. She wakes up, but falls asleep and forgets the dream by morning) 


	8. The Potions Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siria's first week at Hogwarts

**The Potions Master**

(book: people pointing Siria out everywhere she goes, there are 142 staircases in Hogwarts, many of which are magical, doors which are no better, ghosts give poor directions, Peeves will intentionally give you bad ones, the caretaker Filch and his cat Mrs. Norris love catching troublemakers (even if you didn’t mean to cause a problem), and then there were the classes and teachers)

In Siria’s first History of Magic class, she thought she would die of boredom. Professor Binns had a boring, wheezing voice that was too easy to tune out. Though he said a lot, she couldn’t remember any of it. This was one class she would definitely have to read the book for. Unable to take the voice of Professor Binns, Siria took to writing to Sirius.

Dear Sirius, Are you well? You didn’t tell me Hogwarts was huge! Or about how many trick staircases there are. We were on our way down for breakfast and took a wrong turn, which lead us to a moving staircase— with a false step! It was a nightmare. I’d been headed down with the other girls in my year, and Lavender nearly died of fright. Parvati and I barely caught her in time. It’s rather dangerous here. Did you do magic in the halls? I’d bet you did. So far I haven’t, but there’s plenty of time once I can do more subtle magic, right? History of Magic is so boring. We’ve barely been here a half hour, and, even though it’s the first week, people have already fallen asleep. Though, it might be because it’s our first week. Herbology has been cool. We’ve already had two lessons, and I look forward to learning more. Professor Sprout seems really nice. I can see why she’s Head of Hufflepuff. They’re known for being friendly, I hear. People are kind of weird about the Houses, you know. Malfoy says he’d rather leave than have been sorted into Hufflepuff, but Ron says the same thing about Slytherin. Parvati’s sister is in Ravenclaw and Parvati said she said one of the girls in her dorm couldn’t believe Parvati stayed after being put in Gryffindor! No one in Hufflepuff has said a word like that to the other Houses, that I’ve heard. There’s so much gossip around about all the Houses though. Professor McGonagall told us that our House will be like our family, but I had expected that Hogwarts would be like my extended family. Instead, three of the Houses argue that they’re the best there is. How’s Chloe? How’s work? Are you ever going to tell me what you do? 

Although Siria felt she had much more to say, it was just her first letter. She looked around the classroom. Most people were asleep or half asleep. Only Hermione Granger seemed actually be taking notes. Hermione had single-handedly answered every question they’d been asked in every class so far. She hadn’t been kidding about knowing the textbooks by heart. Siria sighed, signed off her letter, and flipped her textbook open to the first page. This was going to be a long class.  
(book: Defense Against the Dark Arts class is a bit of a joke. Friday morning rolls around)  
“We’ve got Double Potions today.” Lavender noted.  
“With the Slytherin’s.” Ron added. He, Dean and Seamus all groaned in unison.  
“Hey,” Siria chimed in, hoping to change the subject. “Hagrid, the Gamekeeper, has asked me down for tea. Does anyone want to come?”  
“Sure!” Ron said. He seemed rather excited.  
“Can’t” Lavender told Siria.  
“Yeah.” Parvati agreed. Siria could tell from their voices that they very well could, but didn’t want to.  
Siria sprinkled some sugar onto her porridge and felt eyes watching her. She looked across the Great Hall to see yet another smug expression on Draco Malfoy’s face. His grey eyes were smiling at her, and he raised up another gift box from his parents. “Jealous?” He mouthed. So far, they hadn’t taken to kicking each other, but he was pushing it.  
Sure, Siria wanted to be civil, but every conversation consisted of him being rude. “Decided to hang around better wizards?” He asked her whenever they passed each other in the hall, and when they agreed to meet in the library Wednesday night. They had agreed to meet to start their first History of Magic essay because Binns wasn’t just boring, he was awful and had already assigned half a roll of parchment, due next class, on Uric the Oddball. Malfoy spent more time asking “When are you going to wise up and stop hanging around that Weasley?” than writing his essay. Moreover, it was difficult to try and be friends with someone she didn’t have any common interests with, and wouldn’t hang out with her other friends.  
Crabbe and Goyle were worse company than Malfoy. They didn’t seem to know a thing about anything. About all they did was crack their knuckles and poke each other with their wands. As they didn’t seem interested in reading, Madam Pince, the librarian, ultimately kicked the two out. Like lackeys they were, Crabbe and Goyle waited outside, until Malfoy and Siria finished.  
At this moment, Siria wanted to Ebublio Jinx Malfoy, but that didn’t seem like “friendly behaviour.” She returned to eating her porridge. Lavender and Parvati had taken to gossiping in little whispers, as they’d taken to the very first morning, and Ron complained to Siria about how Snape favors the Slytherins.  
“Shame McGonagall doesn’t favor us.” Siria told him.  
(book: Potions class sucked, right off the bat. Siria doesn’t know what powdered root of asphodel with wormwood makes, where a bezoar would be, and is cheeky. Neville and Seamus fail at their potion (and ruin Seamus’s cauldron), and it goes all over the floor. Ron and Siria go down to Hagrid’s. They learn Gringotts was broken into, and vault 713 was the target, but Hagrid had emptied it.)  
When Siria and Ron returned to the castle, she burst forward in a spirit. “Siria!” Sirius exclaimed and she leapt into him, nearly knocking him off his feet. He laughed and smiled down at her. “It’s good to see you.”  
“Were you that worried about me?” She laughed.  
“Not at all.” He beamed.  
“Right then…” Ron murmured, starting to step away.  
“Oh, sorry!” Siria told him.  
Though Siria broke their hug, she held onto the Sirius’s sleeve. “Sirius, this is Ron. He’s in Gryffindor— with me!”  
“Arthur and Molly’s son, one of them.” Sirius noted and extended his hand to shake Ron’s.  
“Sirius is my Godfather.” Siria explained. “Is it normal for parents to visit Hogwarts?”  
“About that.” Sirius’s smile suddenly became very worried, like he was being brave.  
“Ron, I’ll be taking Siria for a bit. We’ve got some business with Dumbledore.” Sirius waved to Ron, and Siria followed his lead. She told Sirius that she wouldn’t have sent her letter earlier this week, if he had told her he was coming. He apologized and confessed his trip was rather sudden. Siria looked to her watch and saw the wand was pointing to 4 o'clock.  
“So are you always at Hogwarts at four, or is that any school?” Siria asked.  
“Just Hogwarts.” He assured her.  
They walked to a corridor on the third floor, where Professor Snape was waiting in front of the statue of a large and ugly gargoyle. Siria’s heart fell into her stomach.  
“Is— is because I didn’t know what the powdered root of the thing with wormwood makes?” Siria asked in a hurried voice. “Or because of the— the bezoar thing? I can’t be expected to know the whole book!” She exclaimed. It had only been a week since she arrived and she was being expelled, she was certain. Hermione was the only person in that whole class that knew, aside from Snape.  
“Honestly” Sirius glared at Snape. He knelt down beside Siria, in front of Snape. “Siria,” he placed a warm, thin hand on her head. “It’s alright. You aren’t in trouble at all.” Snape didn’t pay them any mind, and instead said what sounded like “Chocolate Frog” to the gargoyle statue, which jumped to the side.  
“Try not to cause trouble.” Snape told Siria, or maybe it was Sirius, with how their eyes met. Siria and Sirius stepped onto the raising staircase and watched Snape fall from sight. Finally, they came to wooden door with griffen door knocker. Sirius knocked. Professor Dumbledore’s voice came from the other side, “Enter!” Siria didn’t move. His voice wasn’t the only thing on the other side of the door. Though faint, she could hear the distinct hissing that had called her before. It told her to come in, pulled at her, but she would not. Siria would not listen again.  
“No!” Siria whispered, and pulled on Sirius’s sleeve to tell him to stay. “Sirius, it’s in there!” Try as she might, something she couldn’t explained terrified her about that locket. More so than the way it called to her, it scared her now. There was more to it than her fainting. More to it than her wanting to put it back on, or, maybe that was it. She didn’t know. She couldn’t be certain. All she knew, was that even with Sirius and the greatest wizard of all time with her, she didn’t want to be anywhere near that locket.  
Sirius pulled her grip from his sleeve to his hand. He gripped her hand in a firm and comforting manner. His kind, worried grey eyes peered into hers. “Siria, I know you’re scared, but we need you to be brave. This will only take a moment.” He tried to assure her. “Do you remember all those times you stood up to Dudley and his gang? No matter how many times they knocked you down, you stood right back up and pushed them down, didn’t you?” He reminded her. Despite his words, Siria felt standing up to Dudley and his gang of big, stupid bullies was a lot easier than a magic locket that wanted her to wear it so it could knock her out.  
“Okay.” She whispered. Even though she didn’t know what was going to happen, she could feel that she had to do it. Sometimes you get asked to do things that make you scared, and sometimes you have to do those scary things. If she just knew why she was scared, or what was going to happen, she felt she could be much more brave. Dudley’s gang were all bigger than her, and very good at hurting people, but she was smarter than they were and used to getting hurt. The locket was scary because she didn’t understand it, anything about it, and it made her do things, like find it and put it on, which she didn’t want to do.  
(book 2’s description of Dumbledore’s office)  
Professor Dumbledore sat at his desk, with the large oval locket sitting before him. Sirius stood behind Siria, halfway between the locket and the door. Smiling brightly, Professor Dumbledore offered them some tea, which Siria politely declined. Loftily, Professor Dumbledore waved his hand and the inhabitants of the portraits on the wall left them. “Very well,” he said. “Siria, what can you tell me about this locket?”  
Siria took a large, deep breath, and then explained. She told them how she heard it hissing when Sirius went to bed. Then how she had walked, without knowing where she was going, to the cupboard. Siria explained that she ended up in the cupboard, and found the locket there. Taking another large, deep breath, she confessed feeling like the locket wanted her to find it, and wear it, so she did.  
“When I put it on…” her voice trailed off, and she tried to remember the first feeling when she put the chain around her neck. “When I put it on, for just a moment, I felt— I felt like I did a really great job, and was really proud, but…” her eyes fell to the floor. “But everything felt really cold and dark, all of a sudden. I got out of the cupboard, but it didn’t feel right. I felt really sick and thought that I must just be tired, but I was scared. My voice wasn’t working right. I couldn’t call out. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Everything looked like it was closing up around me.” Siria was done. The bright and beautiful office suddenly felt as cold and dark as the kitchen had when she wore the locket.  
“Thank you.” Professor Dumbledore smiled at her. “Could you please explain how it ‘hisses’?”  
“Don’t you hear it?” She asked, and looked around the room. The hissing filled the room and tried to call her closer. She kept herself firmly rooted to the spot, and looked to Sirius.  
“Do you remember, when you talked to the boa constrictor at the zoo?” Sirius asked. She nodded and looked hesitantly at the locket. It felt like the green jeweled “S” was slithering in the locket. “Siria,” he continued, “could you talk to the locket?” He asked, “Like you talked to the boa?”  
“Why?” She asked.  
“We need to see what’s inside.” Sirius answered.  
“But why can’t someone else do it?” She asked.  
“Your gift” Dumbledore began, “is a very rare one.” He informed her.  
Siria’s bright green eyes flickered from the locket to Dumbledore’s kind eyes. As she was in the habit of doing when she needed to summon courage, Siria took a deep, long breath. “Okay.” She nodded. “Open!” she told the locket, it stayed closed. “Open!” She commanded from it. Siria focused on the locket, on the glittering of the green jeweled “S”. The way it flickered and sent shivers down her spine, it seemed so real. “Open!” she demanded.  
Too soon for it all to register, Siria was being carried out of the room by Sirius. The locket on Dumbledore’s desk had opened. A black mist burst from the locket. All of them had drawn their wands. In a blink, she was standing outside of Dumbledore’s office, Sirius had dropped her off and returned to the office. She wiggled the doorknob, pounded on the knocker, then the door.  
“Sirius!” She shouted, while she banged on the door. Siria pointed her wand at the door knob. There was a spell to open doors. “What was it?” She asked. “A— Ah” She knew was something, something with an “A”. Siria opened her mouth to have another go, but the door opened.  
“Hey!” She exclaimed, and knocked the door open. Siria only noticed one thing: there was no hissing. Metal and magical twinklings and clickings and tickings rang in the room, but not a single hiss. The locket was not hidden. It was gone.  
In the absence of the hissing, she started to notice more. There were spots of black scorch marks on Professor Dumbledore’s desk. All of the portraits were still empty of their occupants, and most of the portraits were untouched. Singe marks spotted the previously immaculate floor. “How’d you do it?” Siria asked, still taking in the room without the hissing.  
“Some day, Ms. Potter, I’ll teach you.” Dumbledore promised. “Today, however, is not that day.”  
“I’ll hold you to that.” She grinned, then looked to Sirius, “Can you stay for dinner?”  
“Not today, but I do have some time before I have to go…” He trailed off to look at Dumbledore, who smiled and nodded. “If you’d like to show me around, or tell me about your first week.”  
“You know what’s around!” She laughed. Sirius headed for the door, with Siria behind him. She spared a last look at Professor Dumbledore.  
“Thank you.” Siria smiled. “I’ll bring anything else that hisses straight to you.” Though Professor Dumbledore smiled, there was something fainter about the twinkle in his eye. It almost felt like he expected more things to hiss, but she had been at Hogwarts almost a whole week and hadn’t heard a thing. Besides, now she had seen Hogwarts was the safest place to be. Professor Dumbledore could surely take care of anything.  
They strolled back out of the castle and onto the grounds. Not much time had past since she and Ron had returned from Hagrid’s. There was a nice wind whisping around them, and the air was a little cool. Sirius was an even better listener as himself than as Snuffles. He was perfectly animated and engaged. When she told him about how she had mixed feeling about Herbology because there were so many useful things to learn, but some of it was really gross and tedious, he told her “But it’s all the tedious stuff that’s worth learning. You’re hard working enough, you’ll be sure to get it figured out and find a better way.” She pretended to be very interested in the spot of the Forbidden Forest closest to them, so he wouldn’t notice her blushing with pride.  
“Defense Against the Dark Arts is joke though.” Siria finally fell onto the topic when they turned back toward the castle. “Professor Quirrell seems terrified of everything, but says he’s really got the subject down. Doesn’t much help us for him to be good at it, if he can’t teach us.” She had taken to practicing the motions of the spells her and Sirius had done in summer.  
“It’s really annoying because apparently most of the Slytherins come to school knowing more than we’re going to be taught in it, according to Malfoy anyway.”  
“Malfoy?” Sirius asked. He tried to keep a calm tone, but she could tell he was surprised.  
“Yeah. We’re friends… kinda. He says he wants to be friends, and I didn’t want to write anyone off right away.” She sighed, “but won’t hang out with Lavender or Parvati, and talks trash about Ron’s family… he kinda reminds me of Dudley.” She admitted. Siria stopped walking, and Sirius stopped after a few more steps.  
“Sirius, all throughout school I didn’t have a single friend. Anyone that was the least bit nice to me ended up picked on and bullied by Dudley and his group of idiots until they actively ignored me or joined in. I…” Siria placed her hand over her aching heart. “I hated it, so much.” Her hand clenched tightly around her robes. “It made me want to beat them all into the ground. Talking with Snuffles helped me let the anger out, but I still think about it sometimes and it still makes me so mad.” White broke out along her knuckles as her grip got tighter. She bit her teeth down for a breath, and confessed, “and I don’t want to make anyone feel that way.”  
His warm hand patted her messy, black hair. A comforting smile crossed his face and Sirius told her “I’m glad you feel that way. It shows that you care about other people, and that’s good.” She could feel the “but” coming, and he leaned down until his eyes were level with hers. “Siria, you have to do what’s going to make you happy, even if it sometimes makes someone else mad. You have to do what’s right for you; sometimes that means doing something someone doesn’t like. You don’t have to be mean to be right or happy. If you don’t want to be friends with Malfoy, don’t be. If you want to give it the old fashion try, then do, but don’t work like house elf for it. He better be meeting you halfway.”  
Sirius lifted his warm hand from her head. His kind grey eyes had a light in them that rivaled Dumbledore’s. He looked across the grounds, toward Hagrid’s cabin. As tall and proud as he could stand, he stood. To Siria, he looked like royalty with his elegance and confidence. She was a little envious and became embarrassed as she felt the warm blush color her face. With her head held higher than his, she looked the opposite way.  
“You sound like a parenting book.” Siria told him, almost announcing to the rather vacant grounds he was trying to hard. He flinched a little, clearly caught in the act, but laughed. Sirius bent down in a flash, grabbed her around the waist, and threw her over his shoulder. Immediately, he tickeld her side. She gasped for air, pounded on his back, and let out cries for mercy.  
“So what if I’ve been reading a few books?” He asked, the laughter rang in his voice. “Do you know how much you read? You little nerd!” There was nothing in his voice but the deepest affection. It made the act of being tickled slightly less worse for her. “I’ve just taken a page out of your book.” He confessed and ended his attack on her side. Sirius placed her on the ground and she punched him in the arm. Though he told her “Ouch!” and rubbed his arm, Sirius had the biggest dorkiest smile on his face. Siria shook her head and continued walking toward the castle. Sirius smiled and followed.  
“You know,” he told her. “I’m sure there’s a place in the castle to practice. You should explore.”  
“Where would I even start?” She asked.  
“The top floor. Close to the tower and branch out from there” Sirius looked up at the castle and sighed.  
“Alright,” he patted her messy black hair. “Siria, don’t do anything I wouldn’t.” and he winked at her.  
“So break all the rules?” She laughed.  
“I didn’t break all of them,” he grinned. “Really though, enjoy it while you’re here.”  
Siria knocked his hand from her head and wrapped her arms around him. She squeezed him in the tightest hug she could manage. There wasn’t as much warmth as when she hugged Snuffles, but it was the same loving warmth. Sirius glowed and hugged her.  
“Don’t be reckless.” He told her.  
“Don’t be late.” She told him. Sirius watched her until the doors of the castle closed behind her. Then headed away toward the distant Hogsmeade station. Siria, however, did not return to the Gryffindor common room. There was still a good hour before dinner and she was going to take advantage of it.

Without a shred of air in her lungs, Siria panted when she finally stepped on the seventh floor. She had run into three trick stairs and a moving staircase that seemed to change direction every time she reached the top step. “HA!” She laughed to herself. Forget a place to practice, what she really needed was a place to sit down. Siria placed on a hand on the wall and tried to catch her breath. Why did she have to run everywhere like her destination was going to disappear before she got there? She wasn’t going to be late for finding a practice room. She didn’t even know if there was one here. If she’d been going back to the common room, she would have taken her time and wouldn’t be so winded.  
Siria wondered what she wouldn’t give for a comfy chair. She wandered down the hall and came upon a painting of a miserable looking man trying to dodge what were very clearly troll feet. “What are you doing?” Siria asked him.  
“What are you doing?” He asked her back. The miserable looking man looked as if she’d insulted him.  
“Looking for something.”  
“A place to hide something, no doubt.” He grumbled at her. She noticed one of the giant troll’s feet had what was unmistakably a pink ribbon, crossed and tied around the foot closest to the man. The miserable man tried to push the leg away from him, but wasn’t at all strong enough. He glared at Siria,  
“If you must know, I’m trying to teach ballet.” He told her. He stuck his large, fat nose into the air.  
“To trolls?” She asked.  
“Yes!” He shouted as if that was a perfectly normal and reasonable thing to do.  
“Right…” Siria took a step to the side then remembered.  
“Did you ask if I was here to hide something?” She asked the miserable man.  
“Students always come here to hide things.” He pouted. The miserable man took hold of one of the various clubs in the painting and chucked it out of the frame. It didn’t seem to improve his mood, but the trolls’ feet trampled out after it. Siria supposed that, if the hiding spot was large enough, it could be a good place to practice. He groaned and looked back at Siria. “What’s wrong? Don’t know how to use it?”  
“Is it behind your portrait?” She asked. Siria reached toward him, but the miserable man shouted.  
“Merlin’s Beard, no! Look behind you!”  
A very solid looking wall stood behind her. Siria inched toward it, continuing to watch the miserable man. He nodded and she touched the wall. She expected her hand to go through it. It did not. Her outstretched fingers felt the cool stone of the castle wall. She knocked on the wall. The miserable looking man let out a dry laugh.  
“What?” She asked.  
“You must not want to hide whatever it is that bad.” He told her. Siria didn’t understand because there wasn’t anything to hide.  
“Well, I’ll be back tomorrow, and everyday until it opens!” She told him. With her head held as high as she could, Siria stomped down the corridor. While dragging her feet toward the Great Hall, she saw Lavender and Pavarti.  
“Hey!” Siria called. She ran up to them with the largest smile she could muster. “Heading to dinner?” she asked.  
“Yeah. Hey, did you hear about Hannah Abbott?” Lavender asked. Apparently the Hufflepuff first years had about as terrible an experience as the Gryffindor’s because Hannah had knocked her cauldron over. Siria laughed with them, but hoped it passed. She couldn’t even imagine how embarrassed she’d be if she had dumped her cauldron. Ron was already sitting with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. Lavender and Pavarti sat across from them.  
Almost all the Gryffindor first years were complaining about their first Potions lesson. Outrage chorused through them, as when they had first left the lesson. Snape didn’t seem to notice, which, in Siria’s opinion, was a good thing. As with every meal, poor Professor Quirrell was next to Snape. His eyes were so wide and he was so nervous that he dropped his fork twice.  
“Poor Quirrell.” Siria noted.  
“Don’t mind him.” George Weasley told her as he took the seat next to her.  
“Afraid of his own shadow, that one.” Fred added and sat next to George.  
“Hi.” waved their friend Lee Jordan who sat next to Fred.  
“Hello.” Siria nodded.  
“Haven’t you been introduced?” Fred asked.  
“Lee, Siria.” George gestured from Lee to Siria.  
“Siria, Lee. Done.” Fred gestured from Siria to Lee. She couldn’t help but smile.  
“You know, that’s how you introduced me to Ron.” She told them.  
“Wha’?” Ron asked through a mouthful of potato. Parvati looked at Ron like he’d just spat on her. Though, with how full his mouth was, he might have. She and Lavender slid down the table a bit, two spots worth. Siria, too slow, reached out to them, but withdrew her hand. She didn’t want to ruin the mood. Even if it was a little gross, they didn’t have to act to disgusted by it. Ron wasn’t ill and contagious, just hungry.  
“I said that’s how Fred and George introduced us.” Siria told him.  
“Ohf.” Ron nodded grunted through his bite of shepard’s pie.  
“Don’t mind him.” George told her as he filled his own plate.  
“No manners.” Fred shook his head.  
“Just like you.” Lee grinned at Fred. Fred rolled his eyes, but grinned back.  
“D— do you mind if I sit here?” a quiet voice murmured behind Siria. The voice was so miserable it reminded her of the man trying to teach trolls ballet. It was the round faced toadless boy. He looked just as sad as when he lost his toad on the train.  
“Go ahead, Neville.” Siria patted the bench next to her.  
“Thanks!” Neville told her as if she’d just given him her most prised possession and he sat down. “I got stuck in a trick stair and Hermione had to find someone to help pull me out.” He confessed.  
“Oh…” Siria commented, not really knowing what to say.  
“You’re best off jumping over them.” Fred instructed him.  
“Yeah.” George nodded. “Some of ‘em will squeeze until they break your leg— “  
“Unless you’re pulled out quick.” Fred added.  
“Until they break?” Neville cried. His brow furrowed and his eyes seemed to water with fear from the very thought.  
“Madam Pomfrey can fix you up in a jif though.” George reached around Siria to pat Neville on the shoulder.  
Hermione Granger, looking rather pleased with herself, sat next to Neville. Her very bushy brown hair was in a loose braid. Siria smiled when she saw the scrunchy; it was the one she’d used on the train. Hermione had kept it. Lavender’s jaw dropped when Hermione just sat down next to her, as it Hermione had insulted her. Siria distinctly heard Lavender tell Parvati that is was “Unbelievable.”  
A prickle on the back of Siria’s neck broke her attention. She looked across the hall and saw, at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy glaring at her. “What?” She mouthed. His cold grey eyes were slits of rage, but he mouthed back “nothing,” and turned away.  
“He’s been glaring at you since we sat down.” George whispered.  
“Thought he was gonna pop a vein.” Fred confessed.  
“Weird.” Siria thought.  
“Bet he likes you.” Fred quipped. Siria missed her mouth and her spoonful of potatoes plopped onto the table. Her face flushed and, rather forcefully, she laughed.  
“Yeah right.” She shook her head.  
“Naw, I reckon he’s right.” George added.  
“Then he’s crazy.” Siria told them.  
“He might be.” Fred grinned.  
“He watches you like an eleven-year-old with a crush deeper than the vaults of Gringotts.” George exaggerated to her. Siria rolled her eyes.  
“Sounds like you watch him like a thirteen-year-old with a crush bigger than Everest.” She noted.  
“Caught on to me then,” he joked and elbowed her playfully in the side. They dropped it though, and she was thankful.  
The rest of dinner she spent rather quietly. She gave a laugh at the twins’ other jokes, and chorused with Ron about how terrible Snape had been. Siria even patted Neville on the shoulder because he still looked horrified over it. When she finished, she hung around and talked with them until the food had been cleared. Hermione looked appalled that she hadn’t noticed the time and lead the way back toward to the tower.


	9. The Midnight Duel

**The Midnight Duel**   


Lavender and Parvati didn’t speak to Siria until Monday morning. Parvati waved for Siria to sit with them at breakfast. Siria, relieved, waved back and told Ron she’d see him later. She sat next to Parvati, and greeted her and Lavender with the best smile she could.  
“Did you see the news?” Parvati asked the moment Siria sat down.  
“What news?” Siria asked. The only thing she’d seen that morning was a notice that flying would be held with the Slytherins, and that was nothing to sound so excited about. The other two girls, however, seemed to think it was.  
“We’ve got flying with the Slytherins on Thursday.” Lavender told her, with a haughty air.  
“Oh” was all Siria could manage to say on the matter.  
Even though Siria was sitting with Lavender and Parvati, she felt rather alone. It was a different type of loneliness than she was used to feeling at school. They didn’t necessarily exclude her, but didn’t seem to have many common interests. The other two liked to bond over gossip and complaining, which Siria supposed was fine. She just didn’t really care if Nott was cuter than Malfoy or how, despite how much they brought it up, Lavender and Parvati agreed it didn’t matter “because they’re both in Slytherin anyway.”  
Her almond shaped eyes wandered around the table. Hermione talked with Percy, very animatedly about how she had already gotten a book about flying from the library. Despite her clearly confident tone, Hermione’s eyes were wide with worry. Ron was telling Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan all about how much he flew with his brothers. Fred and George were talking with Lee about how Gryffindor Captain was making them practice even though they still didn’t have a Seeker. Neville clambered into the hall late, had started toward the Slytherin table by mistake, and, if not for Fred and George each catching him by an arm, would have fallen flat on his face. Lavender almost choked on her orange juice because she laughed.  
Siria was absently scooping her porridge up and plopping the spoonful back into the bowl. She had always wanted friends, but was starting to think there was more to being someone’s friend than not ignoring them. Maybe she could check the library for a book on making friends. Siria shook the thought from her head. Maybe she could ask Sirius to very inconspicuously send her a book about it. She couldn’t image how she’d be teased for getting a book on making friends from the library.  
As Siria had done every day since she found the portrait, she returned to the seventh floor corridor. He patronized her, but, whenever Siria sighed and said “Maybe what I’m looking for isn’t around here after all” he would look suspicious. His miserable expression seemed torn between telling her where the hiding place was and whatever he got out of not telling her.  
Today, however, someone else was there, three people even. Flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy stood looking more bored than ever. Despite watching the miserable man being crushed by trolls, he may as well have been watching water boil. Crabbe grunted and Malfoy looked to Siria.  
“There you are!” Malfoy said.  
“Were we meeting in the library today?” Siria asked. She didn’t remember agreeing, but he could have thrown it into one of his rants on how much he didn’t like her other friends, and she may have nodded along without hearing.  
“Why am I just hearing about your Godfather visiting?” Malfoy asked.  
“Sirius visited last week.”  
“I know!” He snapped at her  
“Well, gosh” Siria said in her sweetest tone, “It’s just so sweet of you to want to meet him!”  
“Why do you do that?” Malfoy asked.  
“Do what?” She asked in the same, innocent sounding tone.  
“Act all nice when you don’t want to.”  
Her green eyes blinked at him. Malfoy crossed his arms and actually looked a little hurt. Siria actually felt quite surprised. With how vocal Malfoy was about how much better he thought himself than those around him, she took it to be a thick skin. She didn’t want to, but a chuckle escaped her.  
“So it’s called sarcasm,” Siria explained to him. “You mock people so much, I’d have thought that you were a master of it.” Then she remembered their meeting in Madam Malkin’s, and how her words went straight over his head. Siria didn’t really know why she did it. Sometimes it just felt better to say something nice she didn’t mean in order to be mocking than to be openly mean. She supposed it had something to do with Dudley.  
Dudley was nearly as thick mentally as he was physically. If Siria said something like how they couldn’t practice swirlies because his head would make the toilet sick, it would take him a moment to get it and she would be in trouble. When she said something that sounded nice in a tone that was extra nice, she knew perfectly well she didn’t mean it at all, but Dudley was never any wiser. She could sarcastically agree with Aunt Petunia “Absolutely! He’s the greatest!” and she would usually only get locked in her cupboard for the rest of the day. When she had been tired enough to disagree and call Dudley an idiot, she had gotten a week.  
“Look, Malfoy, if meeting Sirius means that much to you, I’ll ask if you can visit over summer.” She told him.  
“I suppose,” Malfoy told her. It was too obvious how pleased he was with this prospect. “As I’m sure you know, the House of Black is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.”  
Out of reflex, she opened her mouth to sarcastically exclaim “No way!” but quickly clamped her jaw shut and simply smiled. She had no idea what the Sacred Twenty-Eight were or why that mattered to him, but she felt that Sirius didn’t care or he would have told her.

Wednesday, Hermione sat at her desk, pouring over Quidditch Through the Ages for what had to be the tenth time. The other girls started to change into their night gowns when Hermione looked around and asked. “Would one of you be willing to help me in the morning? I promised Neville I’d go to breakfast with him, to make sure he gets there okay, but I’m worried he’ll fall and I won't be able to pull him out alone.”  
She said this all rather quickly, and like she was telling them to help her, rather than asking. Lavender said she couldn’t because her and Parvati were meeting Padma before breakfast. Fay Dunbar looked to Siria in a pleading voice.  
“Yeah.” Siria told Hermione. “I’ll go with you two.”  
“Oh, that’d be even better.” Hermione confessed. Siria didn’t know what it would be better than. “Did you want to braid each other’s hair, before we go down? Or before flying in the afternoon?” Siria supposed that was the “better” part.  
“That’d be good.” Siria forced a grin and crawled into bed.  
She didn’t really want to go to breakfast with Hermione or Neville. Lavender and Parvati always made fun of them. The moment she thought it, Siria was upset with herself. She was no better than the kids at old school that avoided her. Tomorrow, Siria was going to be extra nice to Hermione and Neville, and wasn’t going to care what Lavender and Parvati thought. At the very least, she wasn’t going to let anyone know she cared.

“Siria,” someone called. The voice was kind and soft. It was just above a whisper. “Siria,” the voice called again. A small, cold hand touched her shoulder. Siria pulled the pillow over her head and grumbled nonsense in reply. “Siria, it’s morning!” the voice told her. It was louder and a little bossy. Siria groaned again. It couldn’t be morning, she had just been flying. No, Siria realized, it was morning. They hadn’t flown yet.  
Groggy and half asleep, Siria sat up and looked around. Hermione was standing beside Siria’s bed. She was already dressed and ready to go. Judging from the very little light, Hermione had woken Siria very early. Siria plopped back onto her pillow.  
“I’s so early.” She told Hermione.  
“It’s morning.” Hermione replied.  
“I’s too early for mornin’.” Siria grumbled.  
“You’re even less of a morning person than I thought.” Hermione told her.  
Part of Siria wanted to argue that wasn’t true. The Dursleys had been waking her up early for years. Hermione just wanted to wake Siria earlier than the Dursleys had ever tried. A much larger part of Siria, however, did not have the energy to argue and fumbled out of bed. They headed downstairs to the rather empty common room. A few fifth-year students, including Percy, were pouring over their homework together.  
“Good morning!” Percy waved, but popped right back down to his essay. The other fifth years didn’t even acknowledge them. Hermione sat down by the window and Siria sat beside her.  
“They’re studying for their O.W.L.s, I’d bet.” Hermione whispered.  
“Why’ve they got to study owls?” Siria asked. Fifth year seemed rather late to be learning about them.  
“Oh, no. O.W.L.s: they’re the Ordinary Wizarding Level exams. I can’t wait.” Hermione let out a dreamy sigh.  
“We’ve got five years to go, you’ll have to.” Siria told her, rather thankfully.  
With Hermione and Siria’s help, Neville made it to the Great Hall without getting lost, stuck, or falling.  
(Book: B1, 144-148 Neville gets the Remembrall, Draco comes over, snatches it, Ron & Siria jump to their feet, but McGonagall intervenes, cut to the Gryffindors going down to the field for flying lessons, Neville kicking off too soon, flies higher and higher until he falls off, and breaks his wrist. Madam Hooch takes him to the Hospital Wing. Malfoy starts trash talking, Parvati tells him to shut up, Pansy Parkinson accuses Parvati of liking Neville & insults him further, and Malfoy finds the Remembrall.)  
“Hardy, har, har” Siria said in her driest voice. She reached her hand out to Malfoy, “Hand it over.”  
A nasty smirk crossed Malfoy’s lips.  
“Why don’t I leave it somewhere for him to find?” and he leapt onto his broomstick. Before Siria could tell him to hand it over again, he kicked off.  
(book: B1, 149-151 Siria flies after him, Malfoy realizes he doesn’t have Crabbe and Goyle, so he throws the Remembrall. Siria catches it, but is seen by McGonagall, who takes her to Flitwick’s class, where she calls out Oliver Wood. McGonagall tells Wood Siria is to be his new Seeker)  
“She’s just the build for a Seeker, too,” said Wood, now walking around Siria and staring at her (B1, 151-152).  
Siria straightened her posture and tried to ignore the blush she felt creeping into her cheeks. Oliver Wood was clearly sizing her up, and she didn’t like it.  
(Book: B1, 152-153 Ron, Fred & George all learn Sira’s been made Seeker, & they’re all excited)  
“Hey, Potter!” Malfoy called after Siria and Ron. Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, was heading down the hall toward them.  
“Didn’t really mean to get you in trouble.” Malfoy told her in a voice that didn’t sound the least bit sorry.  
“You didn’t.” Siria told him, coolly.  
“Do you mind?” Malfoy snapped at Ron, as if he were interfering.  
“Do you?” Siria shot back. She took a sidestep closer to Ron and glared at Malfoy.  
This was clearly not going according to plan for Malfoy. He took a half step back and glared from Ron to Siria. Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles and straightened up. The other people leaving the Great Hall caused the lot of them to step away from the flows of traffic.   
“You can’t be friends with them” Malfoy practically growled the words at her. “And me!”  
Siria had never in her life felt her face turn into such a scowl. Her eyebrows had never bunched together in such fury. With how tightly her hands had clenched themselves, they hurt her. Not once had she ever wanted to hit someone more than she wanted to hit him right now. What’s worse is Draco hadn’t even realized how mad she was.  
“It’s them, or me!” He told her. Ron opened his mouth to argue, but Siria stepped up to Malfoy. Her bright green eyes peered over her glasses into Malfoy’s cold grey ones. He was serious, and she was sorry for him that he was. It made her anger vanish. Gryffindor or Draco? It was no contest at all.  
Just as Draco had on the train, Siria held out her hand to him. Draco smiled, foolishly thinking he’d won her friendship. He took her hand. She gave him a very weak smile, but remembered that Sirius had told her to be happy— she didn’t have to be mean to be happy.  
“I chose them.” She honestly confessed.  
His face spoke volumes: he was furiously embarrassed. Draco Malfoy’s pale, pointed face became twisted. A red tinge colored his eyes. His teeth chattered with rage. The two glared in silence. Siria kept her head held high in stubborn righteousness, and his shoulders were arched, like he was ready to fight.  
“Wizard Duel” he stammered out. “Trophy room— midnight. Crabbe is mine— Bring your second!”  
“Okay.” She told him, and turned on her heel.  
To be honest, Siria didn’t know what she had really agreed to. At first, she thought to write to Sirius, but her letter wouldn’t arrive in time.   
(Book: B1, 154-155 Ron explains what a wizard’s duel is, [in the common room & not Great Hall] Hermione interrupts, Siria tells Hermione that it isn’t any of her business)  
Siria took in a deep, swelling breath. If Malfoy knew better magic than her, she would just have knock him down and out with brute force, or run. She went up to the girls’ dormitory, and brought down the most tattered and worn book Sirius had given her. It was, of course, a book of jinxes and hexes. There was plenty of time before midnight to learn something.

Siria and Ron sat in the common room, half actually working and half pretending to be working on homework until it was almost completely cleared. Hermione Granger sat in the chair closest to the portrait hole, and had not moved at all. Ron and Siria gave each other a nod, and, half-past ten, went upstairs. Siria tucked the worn book back in her trunk, closed the curtains around her bed, and waited for Hermione to come up. She did not. At half-past eleven, Siria had no choice but to go down. Hermione was waiting in the same chair.  
“I knew you’d come back down.” She told Siria, just as Ron stepped in as well.  
“Go to bed!” Ron told her.  
“I almost told your brother,” Hermione snapped, “Percy— he’s a prefect, he’d put a stop to this.” (B1, 155)  
“You know what, that’s a great idea, Hermione. Why don’t you go tell Percy?” Siria asked. Hermione looked as offended as Siria felt annoyed. How was she supposed to tell Hermione dueling Malfoy was the only way to get rid of him?  
“Let’s go,” Siria told Ron.  
(Book: B1, 155-162 Siria, Ron, Hermione and Neville [who forgot the password & was stuck outside] go to the trophy room, but it turns out to be a trap by Malfoy to get Siria in trouble. The group all ends up running into the off-limits third floor corridor, where there is a three-headed dog guarding a trapdoor. Ron asks why they’d keep the dog in the castle, Hermione notes it was guarding something, then tells them she’s going to bed before they get her killed [or, worse, expelled], and Siria remembers that Hagrid had said there’s nowhere safer than Hogwarts. She figures that the package from vault 713 is there.)


	10. Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally Friends with Hermione

**Halloween**   


(Book: B1, 163-172 Malfoy can’t believe Siria and Ron are still at school. The two are curious what’s under the trapdoor, but Hermione and Neville seem perfectly intent to not talk about it. With the morning post comes the broom from McGonagall, with a note not to open it at the table. Malfoy stalks out after them, thinks he’s finally going to get her in trouble, but Professor Flitwick knows the deal & that Siria’s the new Seeker [& therein allowed to a broom]. Siria notes that “it’s really thanks to Malfoy here that I’ve got it.” Siria & Ron then smother their laughter at Malfoy’s rage and confusion. Hermione is upset because she thinks Siria got rewarded for breaking the rules, and Ron and Siria tell her to go back to not talking to them.  
She can’t focus on lessons because she’s thinking about her new broom and getting to fly. Her and Wood go out to practice. He (re) explains the game, has her hit a Bludger, shows her the Snitch, and they start practicing with golf balls. At the two month mark, Siria can’t believe she’s been there that long. Hogwarts is more like home than Privet Drive could ever be.  
Halloween, Hermione & Ron have the classic and iconic “It’s wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa” and, after class, Ron says it’s no surprise she doesn’t have any friends. On the way to the Great Hall, for the feast, Ron & Siria hear Parvati tell Lavender that Hermione’s crying the in girls’ bathroom, and wants to be left alone.)  
Siria looked into the amazingly decorated Great Hall, but stopped. The air was more exciting than the start of term feast, and Hermione was crying in the bathroom. She was ashamed with herself. All Hermione wanted was to be friends with someone. Sure, she was bossy and nosey, but she wanted to help. It was why she woke up early for two weeks to help Neville learn the way to the Great Hall, and why she spent so much time in the common room and library. Siria had gotten lucky and Ron had joined her compartment on the train. She’d gotten even luckier with making the Quidditch team. Hermione had not been so lucky.  
“What’s it?” Ron asked.  
“I’m…” Siria sighed. She looked at the oncoming crowd, “I’m going to make things right with Hermione.”  
“Now? Why?” Ron asked in disbelief.  
“You go ahead and eat. We’ll be there soon.” Siria told him.  
She pushed against the crowd of people filing in. Two arms linked with hers, and pulled her off her feet.  
“You’re going the wrong way.” George laughed.  
“Let us help.” Fred added and walked on.  
“I’m going to Hermione!” Siria shouted. She swung her feet, but the twins were just tall enough she couldn’t touch the ground. Siria jerked her arms out and stumbled. Fred and George helped her balance.  
“Alright, alright.” George told her and patted her on the back.  
“Girl studies too much.” Fred added.  
“She’s not studying— she’s crying!” Siria spat and ran off.  
Though Siria immediately regretted being so short with the twins, they would be just fine. Hermione, however, was far from it. She was friendless, and crying in the bathroom. They’d been at school long enough that everyone else seemed to have found their place, and it was well past time Hermione got one too.  
Deep, breathless sobs could be heard echoing through the empty hall. Siria’s heart sank into her stomach. Her hand trembled on the door. What was she even going to say? “Sorry we told you to go back to not talking to us?” She took a swelling breath, and pushed the door open.  
“Hermione?” Siria called. The sobs shuddered.  
“Go away!” She cried. Siria felt like leaving, but couldn’t.  
“No!” Siria stated, as clearly as she could. She marched up to the stall Hermione was crying in. “Open up.”  
“Just leave me alone!” Hermione cried.  
“I refuse!” Siria told her. “No one deserves to be crying alone.”  
“Oh, don’t go being nice to me just because you’re sorry!” Hermione snapped.  
“I’m not.” Siria replied. Hermione was clearly taken aback because she gasped and didn’t reply.  
“I’m not here because I’m sorry.” Siria told her. “I’m here because we’re friends.”  
“But, Ron said— “ she began.  
“Well Ron’s wrong, and he’ll get over it. Then you’ll have three friends.” Siria assured her.  
“Wh— what?”  
“You’ll have me, Ron, and Neville.” Siria told her. After how much time Hermione spent trying to help Neville, Siria was going to make him give it the old fashion try.  
“You’ll just— “ she let out a long sniffle, “side with him every time!”  
“On things like Quidditch and getting in trouble, probably, but I’m sure we’ll have things I side with you on.”  
Hermione cracked the door to the stall. Her eyes were red and swollen. If possible, her bushy hair looked even more bushy than usual. She’d blown her nose raw, and looked as if she had the flu. Siria opened her arms to hug Hermione, but both were distracted by the bathroom door opening.  
A massive, ugly, bluish thing fumbled into the bathroom. Both girls screamed. Hermione practically tackled Siria in an attempt to get further from the troll. First a three-headed-dog and now a troll; was Hogwarts really all that safe after all? Siria pulled out her wand, for a moment she wondered if spells even worked on trolls, but was going to find out. As quickly as she could, Siria drew the jellyfish like hand motion with the tip of her wand and bellowed “Locomotor Wibbly!”  
“NO!” Hermione shouted too late. Siria and Hermione had to duck as the spell bounced back toward them.  
“Troll hide is too thick!” Hermione told her.  
“No kidding.”She replied.  
Siria and Hermione were pressed to the wall opposite the door. Fortunately for them, at this moment, the troll was distracted with mowing down the stalls. Still determined, Siria gripped her wand. Maybe she could hit it with a toilet. The bathroom door creaked open just a crack. Ron’s big nose poked in; he looked terrified. Siria put her finger to her lips. It opened further and she saw, to her great relief, Ron wasn’t alone. Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were behind him, all of them with their wand at the ready.  
With a nod at Hermione, Siria took a few quick steps toward the troll, picked up some pieces of debris, and threw them at the troll’s head. “Big and ugly!” she called out to it. It waddled around and looked at her. She gulped. The troll had been perfectly content wildly swinging its club around, which had prevented her and Hermione from leaving, but had also meant it wasn’t paying them any mind.  
Its’ massive, blue free hand reached for Siria. She ran toward it and slid between its feet. Siria turned to see the troll heading for Hermione, who looked petrified. Spells from the twins and Lee Jordan were ricocheting through the bathroom. “Stop!” Siria shouted. She pointed her wand at a broken toilet. As clearly as she possibly could, she said “wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa!” and it worked. Siria’s aim left something to be desired because it was only the toilet seat. All the same, Siria directed the seat right into the back of the troll’s head.  
“HA!” Siria shouted when the troll waddled around and came toward the door. Fred, George, Lee, Ron, and Siria all took trying to send pieces of debris at the troll. They had to find a way to lead it out of the bathroom. It was, at least, coming toward them and the door. It rose its club high over its head, but when it swung down there was no club. Hovering above the troll’s head, suspended by Ron’s shaking wand, was the troll’s club. Ron flicked his wand down, and the club dropped right on the top of the troll’s head. It took one stumbling step forward, and fell to the ground.  
“Hermione!” Siria called, and held out her hand. Hermione ran along the sinks, took Siria’s hand, and they ran after Ron, Fred, George, and Lee. At least, they ran out of the bathroom after them, but promptly collided with backs of Fred and George. Siria was going to ask “Why’d you stop?” but her eyes fell upon Professors McGonagall, Snape and Quirrell.  
“There was a troll problem.” Siria stammered out.  
“Yes. Professor Quirrell informed the Great Hall of that.” Professor McGonagall snapped back.  
“Didn’t get that memo.” Siria murmured.  
“And we were bringing it to them.” Ron added.  
“Potter, how did you not hear?” Snape’s cold voice inquired.  
“I was in the bathroom— with Hermione.” Siria felt like she needed an alibi, with the way he was looking at her.  
Snape gave them all a swift, piercing look. Siria couldn’t help but feel wrongly accused. They’d taken care of the troll, hadn’t they? As if on cue, Snape pushed past them and opened the door. Professor Quirrell looked past them, and gave a faint whimpering sound. “It’s knocked out.” Snape said just as dryly as everything else. None of them had ever seen Professor McGonagall look so mad. Her lips were pressed so thin that they’d turned white.  
“If they hadn’t come to get us, we might be dead.” Hermione noted. Her hand was trembling in Siria’s.  
“It’s true. If Ron hadn’t dropped its’ club on its’ head, we’d probably have gotten smashed.” Siria added. She gave Hermione’s hand a comforting squeeze.  
Professor McGonagall straightened herself to her full height, and looked as if she were about to give them all detention. She told them they were all very lucky to be alive, and awarded Ron, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan five points each. They were instructed to return to the common room, where the feast was being finished, and that Professor Dumbledore would be informed.  
They all hurried off and toward the common room without a word. When they were two floors up, Ron grumbled that they deserved more points.  
“You’ve each gotten a hundred in my book.” Siria grinned.  
“Only a hundred?” George asked.  
“You set the bar too high.” Fred added.  
“What would we get for a giant?” George asked.  
“Let’s hope we never find out.” Siria laughed.  
Back in the lively common room, Hermione, Ron, and Siria sat together. From that moment on, they were friends. There are some things you can’t share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them (B1, 179).


	11. Quidditch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starting next week, I'm going to see if I can keep up with two chapters a week. If I can, new chapters will drop on Tuesday and Thursday for as long as I can keep it up. Wish me luck.  
> Enjoy!

**Quidditch**  


(Book: B1, 180-183 November comes around, the weather gets cold, the first Quidditch match is Saturday [Gryffindor Vs. Slytherin]. Hermione lent her Quidditch Through the Ages, and she learned there are 700 fouls, and people rarely die, but referees going missing. Snape catches them on the grounds, and takes Quidditch Through the Ages, saying library books can’t leave school and takes five points from Gryffindor. Snape limps away. Siria goes to get the book back, and sees Filch helping Snape with his leg, and saying “How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?”)  
Siria threw her blankets off with a sigh. She wasn’t going to do anyone any good tomorrow. With another sigh, Siria put her bathrobe on, grabbed her school bag and wand, and returned to the common room. “Lumos!” She whispered into the pitch black room. The tip of her wand acted like a faint candle. Choosing the table closest to the window, Siria clicked the lamp on, whispered “Nox!” and the light of her wand went out. Once she set up with quill and parchment, wrote “Dear Sirius” and realized she didn’t really know what to write. She had written to Sirius only twice since being at school, and his only reply was a very short reply that mostly just thanked her for her writing.  
After a moment of staring at the almost completely empty page, she decided something was better than nothing.  


Dear Sirius,  
I’m sure you’re very busy with work, but I wanted to tell you my first Quidditch match is tomorrow. To be honest, I’m actually pretty nervous. Wood— that’s the team captain— has been making us practice everyday. Fred and George, two of Ron’s brothers, are on the team too. They’re really funny, and I think you’d get along with them. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie are our Chasers and they’re all really good. At least, I think they are. I don’t have anyone to compare them too.  
We’re against Slytherin tomorrow. On the subject of Slytherin, Malfoy and I aren’t friends— at all! He told me to pick between him and Ron, and then challenged me to a fake duel when I picked Ron. It was fake because he tried to set us up to caught by Filch.  
Today I saw Filch wrapping up Snape’s leg. It looked pretty bad, and Snape was really mad when I saw. I wasn’t snooping, though. Snape had taken the library book Hermione lent me “because library books aren’t allowed outside the school.”  
I know I wrote “tomorrow”, but it’ll be “today” by the time I send it. It feels like half the students have said they’ll be running around under me with a mattress, and I really want to prove them wrong. I’m going to hold onto my broom like my life depends on it! I totally forgot to tell you! You’ll never believe what broom Professor McGonagall got me! Did you guess? You have to guess at least once before you read the answer, okay? Okay, she got me the best broom there is, according to Wood and Angelina— the Nimbus Two Thousand. Can you believe it? I offered to let her take the money from my vault, but she told me to just win instead.  
Wood had me practice so much, I’ll be so mad if we don’t win. He started me out with golf balls, and I’m pretty amazing at catching them. We moved onto the Snitch a few weeks ago, and I’ve gotten it every night. I just have to be faster than whoever the Slytherin Seeker is.  
Wish me luck! I’ll write you as soon as I’ve won (& Hedwig gets back from delivering this)!  
Siria  


She read over her letter. It was a little wordy, and she felt like it was all over the place, but she also felt better. Her next letter would be much shorter and together. It would just say “We Won!” or something. Siria nodded, folded up the letter, and prepped the envelope. First thing in the morning, she’d take it down to Hedwig. Siria whispered “Lumos,” turned out the light, and finally went up to sleep.

The next morning, Siria woke before the other girls in her dorm room, and headed to the Owlery. It was so early, the sun was just creeping into the sky when she stepped onto the grounds. She blew puffs of breath to occupy herself during the walk to the even colder Owlery. Hedwig hooted affectionately at her.  
“Good morning.” Siria smiled and took a moment to pet Hedwigs’s feathers before attaching the letter. Hedwig perched herself on Siria’s arm. “It’d probably be best to just drop it off at Grimmauld Place.” Siria told Hedwig. Hedwig nipped Siria’s knuckle in a soft and affectionate manner. “Wish me luck. I hope to have a letter of good news for you, when you get back.” Siria walked Hedwig to the window, and she flew off. Watching Hedwig fly off filled Siria with a kind of warm confidence. She had told Sirius she would win, and she was going to hold herself to it.  
The Great Hall was mostly empty when Siria entered. There were a few, mostly older students scattered at different tables, picking at their food over their homework. Siria sat down by Percy, one of the only Gryffindors in the Great Hall. She felt more nauseous than hungry, but knew she had to eat. Siria helped herself to a very small plate of eggs and toast, and hoped she’d be able to eat more before the match.  
“Oh, good morning.” Percy said, rather tired, after Siria had finished her toast and the Great Hall was almost half full. “Didn’t see you.” He added.  
“Fifth year hard?” Siria asked.  
“Of course not! But I can’t neglect a single thing this year. It’s our O.W.L. year, after all. It not only affects what I can take next year, but where I can work. If I want to work for the Ministry, I have to get as many as I can.”  
“R— right.” Siria nodded. She still had to make it through her first match, well before she took her O.W.L.s.  
“There you are!” Hermione’s voice rang down the table. She, Ron, and Neville took the spots closest to Siria. “Honestly, did you even sleep?” Hermione asked her. “What did you do last night?” She scooped some eggs onto her plate and added a few to Siria’s. “I was so very tempted to look for you, but you’d taken your school bag. Did you have more homework? Or did you think you forgot something? I have that happen all the time.”  
“Honestly, Hermione!” Ron called.  
“It’s fine,” Siria couldn’t hide her smile. Hermione had covered Siria’s plate with food and hadn’t stopped talking enough for Siria to answer anything. With a fussy sigh, Hermione stopped piling Siria’s plate and talking.  
“I couldn’t sleep, so I wrote Sirius a letter.” Siria told them. She tried to shrug it off and added “It’s been awhile. My last letter was before I even made the team. I wanted to surprise him, ya know?”  
“Of course.” Hermione smiled. Siria felt that Hermione knew Siria was worried about falling off her broom or otherwise losing the match, and didn’t want Sirius to see it.  
(Book: B1, 184-191 the match is as the book, Siria’s broom is jinxed, she hold on for dear life, Hermione thinks it’s Snape, Fred and George try to pull her onto one of their brooms, but end up circling around her, hoping to catch her, if she falls.  
Hermione accidentally knocks over Professor Quirrell in the process of getting to Snape and setting his cloak on fire. This appears to work because Siria’s broom stops trying to throw her off, and she gets back into the game. Siria immediately speeds toward the ground, claps her hands to her mouth, hits the field, and coughs up the Snitch. Flint complains “[she] didn’t catch it, [she] nearly swallowed it,” but she hadn’t broken an rules. Gryffindor won: 170 to 60.  
Hagrid takes Hermione, Ron, and Siria to his cabin for tea. Ron says it was Snape. They tell Hagrid that Snape is trying to get past the three-headed dog, Hagrid asks how they know about Fluffy, and what Fluffy is guarding is between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel, which sets the group on track to find out what Fluffy is guarding.)  
Hermione wanted go straight to the library to start looking up Nicolas Flamel, but Siria pointed out she couldn’t very well bring her broom in. They returned to the Gryffindor common room, where Siria had never received so much attention. Even Percy took a moment to pat her on the back. She got patted on the back by every person she past as her and Hermione made their way to their dorm. Siria put her broom gently in her trunk. It wasn’t the broom’s fault Snape tried to jinx her. She smiled at it. Hermione patted Siria on the back.  
“What?” Siria asked.  
“Everyone else was doing, like you’re lucky.” Hermione smiled.  
“Did you just make a joke?” Siria asked as she closed the trunk.  
“Maybe.” Hermione replied with a smile.  
When Siria turned to reply, she saw a pink ribbon sticking out of Parvati’s trunk, and it reminded her. Siria smacked her forehead. Hermione stepped back.  
“What?” She asked Siria.  
“I totally forgot. I was supposed to find a room.” She confessed. Siria had been so caught up in making friends and practicing Quidditch that she’d forgotten the miserable man. Besides, she didn’t really need a place to practice yet, they could just use an empty classroom.  
“What room?” Hermione asked.  
“I’ll… I’ll find it later.” Siria told her. She could always catch up with Sirius over the summer.


	12. The Mirror of Erised

**The Mirror of Erised**   


(Book: B1, 194 Christmas is coming. Fred & George are punished for bewitching several snowballs to follow Quirrell around and hit him in the turban.)  
Siria didn’t mind not returning to Privet Drive. She hadn’t expected to return. Though she had wanted to spend Christmas with Sirius, his reply to her letter, about winning the match, had explained he would be working the whole holiday, but wouldn’t have to work during the summer. No matter what Malfoy said, she wasn’t sorry to be staying at all. Ron and his brothers would be staying too. His parents were going to Romania to see Charlie.  
(Book: B1, 195-196 Ron and Siria offered to help Hagrid with a tree, but are blocking the hall. Malfoy tells them they’re blocking the hall, and asks if Ron is trying to become gamekeeper because Hagrid’s hut is like a palace compared to what Ron is used to. Ron dives at Malfoy, Snape sees and takes 5 points from Gryffindor. Ron says he’ll get Malfoy one day.)  
“They’re the worst.” Said Siria.

(Book: 197-202 Hagrid isn’t happy to learn they’re still looking for Nicolas Flamel and tells them to drop it. Siria wonders if the book they need is in the restricted section. Ron and Siria end up having too much fun to look for Nicolas Flamel. They have the common room almost to themselves. The two enjoy each other’s company, eat a lot, plot ridiculous ways to get Malfoy expelled, Ron teaches Siria wizard chest. She has trouble using Seamus’s chest set because they don’t trust her.  
On Christmas, she wakes up to a pile of presents: a wooden flute made by Hagrid; a fifty-pence piece from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia; a thick, hand-knitted emerald green sweater and box of homemade fudge from Mrs. Weasley; Hermione got her a box of Chocolate Frogs; and the Invisibility Cloak with a note saying it belonged to her father, is being returned to her, and she should use it well.)

Siria opened the last of the packages, a box from Sirius. It contained a new and very lovely Moony & Padfoot dress; the dress was a very Christmas red with lacy white trim at the bottom. Siria immediately changed into it and pulled the emerald Weasley sweater on over it. Though it flared out, it fell perfectly when she sat back on the bed. She liked that it went just past her knees.  
There were some more clothes for winter: two sweaters, some thick socks, two new pairs of pants, and a half dozen shirts. Siria felt she was right; if Sirius was the only one to raise her, she would have been spoiled rotten— probably more than Malfoy. After all the clothes had been gone through, she pulled a long silver chain from the bottom of the box. It had a very simple, elegant “S” dangling from it, beside a little star. On the back of the star was the smallest message Siria had ever seen on anything “Sirius to Siria” with “2011”, as if she would ever forget.  
Fumbling with the clasp of the necklace, Siria headed to the common room. Fred, George, and Ron were already down with different colored sweaters, similar to Siria’s emerald one.  
“Yours doesn’t have a letter either” Fred observed.  
“I suppose mum thinks you two don’t forget your names. But we’re not stupid— we know we’re called Gred and Forge.” (B1, pg 202) Siria spat out a laugh.  
“Well, your mum is amazing.” She told them.   
(Book: Percy comes in, is forced into his sweater, and they join the feast together. It’s Siria’s best Christmas ever.)

Siria returned to her empty dorm room and began loading her trunk with her new gifts. She grabbed the fluttering, fluid silver cloak, and decided to try it on. It was cool to the touch. Turning to see herself in the mirror, Siria’s heart dropped— the room was empty. She looked at her hand, and could see it. Siria pulled the hood and there, in her reflection, was her floating head. “I’m invisible!” She whispered to herself. Her heart raced. Siria bit her lip and thought for a moment. The note had told her to “Use it well” and Sirius had told her to enjoy herself.

(Book: 205-214 she sneaks out of the dorm, goes to the Restricted Section, opens a book, which screams, she slams it shut, and runs. Siria just barely escapes and stumbles upon the Mirror of Erised, in an unused classroom. She sees her family, but it takes her a moment to realised that’s them. Siria stares at the room for longer than she can tell, and promises to come back.  
The next morning, Ron tells her she could have woken him up, and she tells him he can come tonight. She also says she wants to see his family, at which he tells her she can see them any time. Siria can’t eat because she’s so excited to be getting to see her parents again. She even decides that it doesn’t matter what Fluffy is guarding or if Snape gets it.  
It takes them a while to find the mirror, but they do. Ron can’t see anything until he’s standing in front of it without her. He sees himself as Head Boy, with the Quidditch Cup and House Cup. Ron asks if it shows the future, but Siria tells him it can’t because her family is dead.  
So focused on the mirror and seeing her family again, she rather waists the day. She returns for the third night, and Professor Dumbledore is there. Siria learns the mirror shows what you want the most in the world.)

Her heart sank. Siria looked over her shoulder, at the smiling and waving people— not one of them Sirius. Even though he had always been there for her, and had taken her from the Dursleys as soon as he could, she still wanted her parents. She felt guilty for wanting them, when she had Sirius. He had been reading parenting books for her and was doing his best.  
With a trembling breath, Siria turned away from the mirror. Her almond shaped green eyes, that had been perfect copy of her mother’s, turned to Professor Dumbledore. He told her the mirror was being moved, and asked that she not look for it. Siria nodded. All too late, she had realised seeing the mirror wasn’t fair to Sirius, and that Ron had been right.  
(Book: 214 Siria asks Dumbledore what he sees, and he says socks. It isn’t until she’s back at her dorm that she realises he may have not been telling the truth, but knows it was a rather personal question.)


	13. Nicolas Flamel

**Nicolas Flamel**   


(Book: 215-217 Siria doesn’t look for the mirror anymore, and wishes she could forget it, but she can’t. She keeps having dreams about her parents dying, and Ron tells her Dumbledore said it could drive her mad. When Hermione returns the day before term starts, she’s torn between horror at Siria sneaking out three nights in a row and disappointment she didn’t learn who Nicolas Flamel was.  
Quidditch keeps Siria busy, and she’s happy to practice until exhausted because those nights she doesn’t have the recurring nightmare about her mother’s death. One practice, the team is messing around, and Wood tells them they need to take it seriously because Snape is refereeing. Siria is distressed by the news because she fears Snape will jinx her broom and she’ll be bucked off. Ron and Hermione tell her not to play, suggesting “Pretend to break your leg” and “Really break your leg.”  
Neville hops into the common room, having been hit with a Leg-Locker Curse.)

Everyone fell over laughing, except Hermione and Siria. Siria rushed to help him up, and Hermione performed the countercurse.

(Book: 217-227 from Neville telling them Malfoy had been looking for someone to practice that on [& them learning Flamel made the Sorcerer’s Stone, which can turn any metal to gold and make the Elixir of Life] through the next match, which Snape referees and Dumbledore watches. It continues to Siria following Snape, with her broom, into the forest where it sounds like Snape is bullying Quirrell into helping him get past Fluffy.  
Siria tells Ron and Hermione what she heard, and Ron says “[the Stone will] be gone by next Tuesday.”)

“There she is!” Wood shouted the moment the portrait hole opened. He pulled Siria through and patted her hard on the back. “Best Seeker Gryffindor has ever seen! The Hufflepuffs didn’t even know what hit them.”  
“Thanks, Wood.” Siria gave a slight wince as Wood continued to pound on her back.  
“Oliver, that’s enough!” Katie told him, and she pulled Siria into a hug. “You were great, kiddo!” She ruffled Siria’s already too messy to manage hair.  
As with the first match, Siria found herself being passed around and patted on the back until almost everyone in the common room had done so. It took her a moment to get back to Ron and Hermione, who were waiting for her with a small plate of half a turkey sandwich and some cookies. Siria had been so nervous this morning, she had only managed to down a piece of toast.  
“You’re the best!” Siria told Hermione, and began wolfing down the plate.  
“See.” Hermione pointed out to Ron. “I told you she needed more than toast for breakfast.”  
“Siria’s fine, aren’t you?” He asked. Siria didn’t trust herself not to spray them with food if she talked, so she nodded.  
“Don’t be shy.” Fred told her and put two more sandwich halves on her plate.  
“Yeah. We can always get more if you clean us out.” George added, and handed her a glass of water.  
“Thanks.” Siria muttered, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. She chugged the water down.  
“Afterall, it’s thanks to you we won.” Fred said. Siria shook her head.  
“Nah. You guys kept the Bludgers so far, I didn’t have to dodge once.” She told them, and looked to George, “Even if one of you got Hufflepuff a penalty shot for almost hitting the ref.”  
“It was such a shame you missed.” Ron told them.  
“Ron!” Hermione snapped. “They could have gotten into a lot of trouble for hitting Professor Snape.”  
“Accidents happen all the time in Quidditch.” George smirked.  
“Well,” Fred patted Siria on the back, “See you later.” George did the same.  
“You know, if they had hit Snape, I’d reckon I may not have heard what I did.” Siria told them.  
“We might’ve heard though.” Ron told her, “When Hermione and I took Neville to Madam Pomfrey.”  
“Hermione, I can’t believe you didn’t stop them.” Siria confessed.  
“I was watching the match!” Hermione defended.  
“We ought to visit him, bring him some food.” Siria told them.  
“Later!” Ron said. “You’ve got to celebrate— besides, he was out cold.”


	14. Norbert The Norwegian Ridgeback

**Norbert The Norwegian Ridgeback**   


(Book: 228-235 Snape hasn’t gotten the Stone yet. Hermione does up a study schedule and insists that exams are around the corner [because they’re ten weeks away]. The teachers are thinking what Hermione is and increase their homework load. One day in the library, they see Hagrid in, find out he’s been looking at dragon books, and go down to see him. They learn that Professors Sprout, Flitwick, McGonagall, Quirrell, Snape, and Dumbledore himself have all also put something in place to protect the Stone. They learn he got a dragon egg from a guy at the Hog’s Head. Malfoy overhears them talking about going down, and also sees the dragon hatch.)  
Siria cornered Malfoy in the hall after potions. The smug smirk on his face widened. “Finally changed your mind, Potter?” He asked coolly.  
“You know why I’m here Malfoy.” Siria tried to keep her tone level.  
“You ought to learn some manners, Potter.”  
“What do you want?” she asked in the most controlled voice she could. She was here for Hagrid, who didn’t deserve to get into trouble for finally getting the pet of his dreams because Malfoy was being a prat.  
“Didn’t you stop me?” He asked with a smirk. She said nothing in reply.  
“Fine. How about you, in front of the whole of the Great Hall, call that Granger a ‘Mudblood’?” He asked. Siria didn’t know what a Mudblood was, but it didn’t sound good. If he wanted her to say it in the Great Hall, it was probably pretty bad. If he wanted her to say it to Hermione, it was probably even worse. Siria tsked.  
“Is it lonely?” She asked him, “on the pedestal you’ve put yourself?” and turned before he could give his snarky reply.

(Book: 235-241 The trio agrees to have Ron’s brother Charlie take the dragon. Hagrid agrees. Ron has been bitten and Malfoy stops by the Hospital Wing to have a laugh, claiming to want to borrow a book from Ron. The book he borrows is the one with the note about when Charlie’s friends will be by for the dragon. There isn’t enough time to change the plan.  
Hermione and Siria manage to get Norbert up to the tower. On the way, they see Malfoy get detention. They forget the Cloak and end up in detention themselves on the way back.)


	15. The Forbidden Forest

**The Forbidden Forest**   


(Book: 242-243 They’re taken to McGonagall, who asks them to explain themselves because it’s one in the morning and they were at the Astronomy Tower.)

“What better time to look at the stars?” Siria asked, but found herself wishing she hadn’t.  
(Book: 243-251 They all get detention and lose a total of one hundred and fifty points. All the way through Siria’s worst time at Hogwarts, her being thankful exams are close, because she can keep her head down and study, through to Siria hearing Quirrell, through the trio deciding that they can’t tell anyone because they aren’t supposed to know about Fluffy or the Stone. They get their detentions, and into the forest they go, despite Malfoy trying to refuse.)

“So me, Siria, an’ Hermione’ll go one way an’ Draco, Neville, an’ Fang’ll go the other.” said Hagrid (B1, 251).  
“Hagrid, I think it’d be better for me to go with Malfoy.” Siria said and groaned. It was obvious to Hagrid, Hermione, and Neville that Siria would rather go into the forest alone than with Malfoy. Neville mouthed “thank you,” silently in the dark.   
(Book: 251 into the forest, shoot green for unicorn and red for trouble)

The light from Siria’s wand was brighter than the lantern, so she led the way. Fang held to her side and, right on her heel, Malfoy walked behind her. Knots tightened and spiraled in Siria’s stomach. Somehow, the forest felt full and empty. They followed the silvery trailer deeper and deeper. Things howled, creaked, and called in the distance, but there were no sparks, only the occasional moonlight that snuck in from cracks between the branches.  
“So,” Malfoy’s cocky voice called, “finally wised up, have you?” For as cocky as he sounded, Siria felt the terror in his voice. Malfoy found the forest just as unnerving as she did. In the darkness and with him behind her, Malfoy couldn’t see her smirk.  
“Enough to know you’d jinx Neville in the forest.”  
“Developed a soft spot for Longbottom, have you?” He asked in a tone much like the one he had used to apologize for her parents being dead: uncompassionate and unconcerned.  
“I’ve a ‘soft spot’ for the whole House,” Siria felt this was mostly true.  
When she lost all those points and most everyone changed how they treated her, Siria realised how much she adored them. It was different than disappointing the Dursleys. The feeling was like if the people in the Mirror of Erised had all slowly shaken their heads with frowns of disapproval. She had never known it before.  
“Don’t know why. It’s full of half-bloods, blood traitors, and Mudbloods.” He spat.  
“Maybe it has something to do with no one caring I’m a half-blood.” She noted.  
There was a snap beside them and Malfoy jumped forward so quickly he knocked Siria down. Her wand slipped out of her hand, but remained lit. She picked it up and examined the woods around them before she looked at the scraps on her hands. Natural wood chips were scattered about and splinters of some were jammed into her hands.  
“If you’re so scared of the dark, don’t be such a snitching prat.” She winced.  
“You—you’re bleeding!” The panic in his voice annoyed her.  
“You pushed me onto the ground in a dark, magic forest. Did you expect me be fine?”  
“I just—” but Siria shushed him. Pain shot through her scar. It caused her to turn and see it: more silver, unicorn blood than before.  
“We’ve got to be close.” Siria told him. She pulled herself to her feet“Have your wand ready, and try not to shove me down, would you?” Siria asked in a manner of telling him.  
(Book: 255-256 go further, find it, & Siria’s scar burns with pain)

“Run!” Malfoy shouted and grabbed her sleeve. Fang bolted off, Siria pulled her sleeve away, and Malfoy ran after Fang. She hesitated then, as she thrust her wand above her head, cried “Nox!” and fired red and green sparks.  
(Book: 257-261 rescued by the centaur Firenze. Siria is told about unicorn blood, what’s in the castle, to be safe, and that the stars may be wrong. They return, tell Ron, and Siria’s Cloak is on her bed with a note “Just in case.”)


	16. Through the Trapdoor

**Through the Trapdoor**  


(Book: B1 262-271 exams, they learn Hagrid told the stranger with the dragon egg about Fluffy, and that Dumbledore is gone. Ron & Siria try to guard the corridor, but Professor McGonagall takes more points, but Siria won’t give up, and the trio decides to go in for the Stone.)  
They sat huddled in the common room. Siria wrote out a list of the professors they knew helped: Sprout, McGonagall, Flitwick, Snape, Quirrel, and Dumbledore himself. Then there was Fluffy, from Hagrid, who she’d just have to play the flute for. Hermione poured over her notes. Siria ran through Magical Drafts and Potions and the old, battered book Sirius had sent. She was going between spells and potions one at a time. Ron was trying to read One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. He took to reading the old, battered book whenever Siria was going over a potion.  
Siria gave Ron a nod and walked, as casually as she could upstairs. Silently, she opened her trunk and changed into her oldest t-shirt and a pair of pajama shorts. Hermione entered and crawled into bed, closing the curtains. Siria, put her books away, bagged the flute, and eyed her Nimbus. Flying was the one thing Siria felt really good at. Her broom would hardly take up more space, and it might come in handy. She closed the curtains around her bed and then pulled the Invisibility Cloak over. Siria snuck over to Hermione’s bed and parted the bottom of the curtains. Hermione slid under the Cloak and eyed Siria’s broom. She mouthed “Really?” but Siria only nodded. They crept back to the common room, where Ron was waiting— with Neville.  
“We should go to bed.” Neville told Ron. He hadn’t noticed Siria and Hermione under the Cloak.  
“Yeah. You, uh, go ahead. I’ll be up soon.” Ron said.  
“I know you’re planning on going out again.”  
“What? That’s rubbish,” Ron tried to wave it off.  
Under the Cloak, Siria mouthed to Hermione “Please, do something” and gestured to Neville. Hermione pulled the Cloak off her.  
(Book: Hermione petrified him, they run into Peeves)  
They had frozen under the Cloak. It would all be for nothing if they were caught. Siria pointed her wand at her throat. As quietly as she possibly could, she whispered “Aspera Voce!” and took a deep, swelling breath.  
(Book: 274 Siria impersonates the Bloody Baron, and get to the room, where the door is ajar)  
“Vox Reditus!” the hoarse whispering voice said, and Siria’s voice returned to normal. “If you want to go back, you can take the Cloak. I’ll be okay.”  
“You’re crazy.” said Ron.  
“Let’s go.” said Hermione.  
(Book: 274-276 past Fluffy and to the trapdoor)  
Siria swung a leg over her broom and flew down the trapdoor. “Lumos!” she whispered. The fall would have been long, but there was a soft looking padding of sorts along the ground. “You should be good to jump, unless you want to call my broom up.” She told them. Siria landed down and held up her broom beside her wand.  
“Can’t see it from here!” Hermione shouted down. “Is the landing soft?”  
“Yeah. It’s a thick, plant thing.”  
(Book: 277 Ron and Hermione jump, Hermione discovers it’s Devil’s Snare, Hermione tells them not to move)  
Siria closed her eyes and held as still as she could. Her heart was pounding. The plant had loosened its grip, but her grip on her wand and broom remained firm. She didn’t have the confidence to get up because the Devil’s Snare might change its mind. “Hermione,” Siria said with her teeth clenched, “how do we get rid of it?”  
“Professor Sprout said… she said it loves the damp and the dark— “ Siria waved her arm with her wand, tip still lit, at the Devil’s Snare around her. It shrinked back, but not far.  
“Hermione, light a fire!” Siria cried.  
(book: 277-280 “are you a witch or not” exchange, blue flames, and into the room of winged keys)  
Upon realizing they were going to have to catch the key by flying, Siria held up her Nimbus Two Thousand in a victorious, silent gloat. Hermione rolled her eyes. “There are brooms here” Hermione gestured. “Not as fast as the Nimbus Two Thousand ” Ron boasted, as if it were his own broom. “The moment you think you see it, let me know.” Siria told them and took to the air. Ron and Hermione each kicked off as well. (Book: 280-287 they get the key and onto the chessboard. Ron gets them through by sacrificing himself. Hermione solves Snape’s potion logic puzzle. Hermione goes back for Ron and to write Dumbledore. Siria agrees to go forward and sees it isn’t Snape)


	17. The Man with Two Faces

**The Man with Two Faces**   


“You!” Siria exclaimed in complete and total disbelief. “But,” she paused. For as much as it couldn’t possibly be, it was. In fact, it made more sense. It made perfect sense for it to be Quirrell. He had been at Diagon Alley the date vault seven hundred and thirteen had been broken into. Quirrell wasn’t terrified of the book on vampires; he was scared about breaking into Gringotts. Snape hadn’t tried to bully Quirrell into helping; he tried to bully Quirrell out of pursuing the Stone.  
She wanted to ask “But why?” but knew it was probably for the same reason she thought Snape was trying. Instead she asked him “But you teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Why would you want the stone for Voldemort?” Quirrell ignored her and snapped his fingers. Ropes sprung up and wrapped around her. He turned his focus to the mirror.  
“I thought it was Snape.” She called to him.  
(Book: 288-291 Siria learns Snape tried to save her, Quirrell let the troll in, & it was Voldemort threatening Quirrell)  
Siria’s mind was racing.  
Yes! Break the mirror! Dumbledore is smart enough that the Stone is probably trapped in it. If Quirrell breaks it, he’ll never get the Stone. How can I convince him to break it?  
Siria shut her eyes. She knew that what she wanted more than anything was to have the Sorcerer's Stone so that Quirrell could not. If she got the Stone though, it would be an eleven-year-old against an experienced teacher with Voldemort on his side. Her heart hammered in her chest. It was deafening. The ropes binding her fell.  
(Book: 292 Quirrell calls her over, & her reflection drops the stone into the pocket of her shorts. Quirrell asks what she sees.)  
“I see my family” she told him. “At least, I think it’s them. There’s a woman with my eyes, a man with my hair, and, further back, there’s even a man with my knobbly knees.” It was not hard to tell Quirrell this because she had seen it before.  
(Book: 293-295 Siria sees Voldemort on the back of Quirrell's head. He tells her that his is what he’s been reduced to [feeding off Quirrell and unicorn blood]. Voldemort knows that Siria has the stone in her pocket)  
“Sirius will be happy to hear you’re up.” said Dumbledore. Siria blinked around before her heart leapt.  
“The Stone!”  
“Calm yourself, Siria.” He placed an arm on her shoulder. “Or Madam Pomfrey will throw me out.”  
(Book: 295-299 Dumbledore explains what happened, tells Siria to always use “Voldemort,” about how her mother’s sacrifice kept her safe)  
Siria smiled weakly. “I should have known,” she confessed. “Sirius had said someone smarter than him said I had to live with the Dursleys. It was you, wasn’t it?” He nodded.  
(Book: 299-302 Siria learns Snape and James detested each other, and James had saved Snape’s life. She learns how she got the Stone, so on. He leaves, Ron and Hermione visit her, Hagrid visits too, and gives her the photo album of her parents. He leaves.)

For hours, Siria flipped through the photo album in her bed of the Hospital Wing. Smiling strangers beside her parents, waved up at her. There were a lot of Sirius with her father, and almost as many with Sirius, her father, and two other men. Though Siria snacked on the heaps of gifts around her, she seriously doubted being able to finish or pack them all. She wondered, if she wrote to Sirius, if he would be able to come and collect them.  
The doors of the Hospital Wing creaked open. Hurried steps nearly collided with her bed in a rush to sit beside her. Warm arms wrapped themselves around her and smashed her face into the warm chest they belonged with. “Merlin’s Beard!” Sirius cried. He kissed the top of her head and looked down at her. “Siria, what were you thinking? You could have been killed!” Sirius pulled her back into the tightest hug she had ever received. Muffled by being meshed into his shirt, he couldn’t make out her reply.  
“Sirius Black!” Madam Pomfrey snapped. Sirius looked like a child in trouble at her before he let Siria go and simply sat on her bed. Madam Pomfrey tucked her head back into her office, but Siria could feel the stares. Siria looked to Sirius. For as angry as he had sounded a moment ago, he looked relieved and something she couldn’t put her finger on.  
“James would have been proud.” Sirius confessed. “It was the perfect amount of brave, but reckless.” Siria wanted to ask if Sirius was proud, but felt that would be asking to be told he was. He peered over at the album in her lap. “Hagrid hadn’t said why he wanted the photos, but I should have known.” There was a smile on Sirius’s face, but it felt a little sad to Siria. “I can duplicate any of the ones in your room you want.” He told her. She nodded. Sirius placed a large, warm hand on her head.  
“When Dumbledore told me what happened… I was an immediate mix of relieved you were okay, proud you had taken the risk, and furious he had let you.” His silver eyes looked past the window. “Siria…” seemed to be all the more he could say on the matter.  
“To be fair, you and Hagrid agreed there is no place safer than Hogwarts and you would have done the same.”  
“I’m also a lot older and more experienced.”  
“I’d be willing to bet eleven-year-old Sirius would have gone with me, if he could have.” She told him.  
“Hmm.” Sirius sighed, “That is a rather safe bet.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at her face as if he had never seen it. Sirius gave a genuine smile that wasn’t the least bit sad.  
“You have to take care of yourself, when I’m not there. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come back.” He confessed. Siria’s heart sank, but also felt very warm. She had never known someone to be so worried about her. Unlike being tickled, the pleasantness outweighed the feeling of guilt for having made him worry so much.  
“Next time, I’ll tell Professor Dumbledore. If I think something’s up, I’ll write to him straight away.” She promised. He would hold her to it. They shared a quiet moment, going over the photo album, before Sirius had to leave. With a flick of his wand, Sirius had most of her remaining tokens of admiration packed and ready to greet her when she returned to Grimmauld Place.

(Book: 303-309 She gets to go to the end of the year feast, where it’s Slytherin’s colors. Dumbledore gives his speech.  
Ron— 50 points for the chess match  
Hermione— 50 points for “cool logic in the face of fire”  
Siria— 60 points for nerve & courage  
Neville— 10 points because of the courage it takes to stand up to our friends  
Gryffindor wins!  
The exam results drop and onward to the Hogwarts express, then King’s Cross, and the Dursleys)


End file.
